


In The Water Under The Bridge

by Leonidas1754



Category: South Park
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author's Note is Important: Read It, Chubby Kyle Broflovski, Depression, Eric Cartman isn't a monster but he does cause problems, M/M, Non-Graphic Kenny Deaths, Schrodinger's Dove: Eat at Own Risk, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, There's two; one is discussed and both happen off-screen so to speak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonidas1754/pseuds/Leonidas1754
Summary: An incident just before the start of Senior year leaves Stan with a heavy dose of amnesia and a new group of friends, courtesy of his old group. This probably wouldn't be a problem, except that Kyle is acting fairly strange about it all and no one quite knows why. All Stan can truly do is continue on and try to remember just what it is Kyle needs him to know.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOP. READ THIS.
> 
> So, to be completely serious here: This is not the darkest fic on this site, not by a long shot, but it will be dark. This is, in large part, myself working through some feelings and experiences of my past and the ways I felt then and now. That "No Archives Warning Apply" label is correct- There won't be death (Aside from two offscreen Kenny deaths), rape, graphic violence, or anything like that. There will, however, be some topics on the dark side, as you might've already guessed from the tags. And of course, a happy ending, because I don't really do unhappy endings. That doesn't mean it won't be depressing prior to the end, though. While some of the coming events might be relatively clear (especially due to the tags), there are other things I hope will be a mystery prior to the reveals. I am not a mystery writer, haha,,, Plus there's always that trouble with writing a mystery, where you know what's going to happen, but it's hard to tell what the reader will know.
> 
> I also feel I should make it clear that I'm in a far better place than I once was, mentally and physically. So I guess the point is don't worry about me, heh. I hope you enjoy this fic, where things will definitely get worse before they get better.

Stan looked out the passenger window at the high school, dread growing in his stomach. “Do I have to go..?” Stan asked, glancing at his mom. “If everyone knows me, but I don’t know them… Won’t that be kinda awkward?”

“I know, Stan, but you can’t just avoid school. Graduating is really important. You’ll be just fine,” Sharon reassured him. “If things truly get bad, we’ll look into other options. Besides, being around people you know might help get your memories back.”

Stan took a deep breath. “Okay.” He could do this. He got out of the car with one last wave to his mother and dug some papers out of his bag. One blessing, at least, was that today was the first day of school, so he wouldn’t have to find his classes all over again, and there’d probably be a bit more forgiveness if he was late. He had his schedule, he had a map. He could do this.

Following the crowd of students he entered Park County High School and tried his best to find his locker. Thankfully, it seemed the senior lockers were all on the first floor, so it wasn’t terribly long before he discovered which was his. He managed to squeeze between the people and dump his bag inside.

“Hey, Stan!”

Stan jumped slightly, turning to see a guy with darker blond hair and an orange jacket strolling up to him with a lazy grin.

“Uh… Hey,” Stan said awkwardly, rubbing his neck.

“You don’t remember me, I know,” the guy said. He pulled open the locker next to Stan’s and dropped his bag inside before speaking again. “Don’t worry too much, okay? Just meet me here at lunch, I’m gonna set you up with a group of buds.”

Stan wasn’t really sure if he should be listening to this guy, but Stan also felt like he could trust the man. It was good to trust your instincts, right? Especially when said instincts could be drawing off knowledge locked away from his conscious thought. “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

The blond gave him finger guns before slamming his locker shut and walking off, presumably to his first class. Stan shut his own locker a little easier after double-checking that his locker combination was on his phone. The last thing he needed at this moment was having all his stuff locked in because he couldn’t remember how to open it. Then he headed off to his own first class, the promise to meet at lunch lingering in the back of his mind.

The first day of school was never the most eventful thing, Stan figured, and while he knew at least a number of these people most likely knew him, they didn’t show it by anything more than a simple greeting, which was almost relieving. His generalized amnesia also hadn’t taken his memory of what he’d learned, so at least there was that. When lunch came around, he returned to his locker, dumping his books inside. 

The blond showed up shortly after Stan pulled his packed lunch out of his bag. “Hey bud, ready to meet some new friends?”

“I guess. But first, who the hell are you?” Stan asked, brow furrowing.

The blond chuckled. “Name’s Kenny. We were close friends, before the accident, but…” His expression darkened slightly. “Considering what happened, we figured it’d be better if you hung out with a new group rather than your usual one. There’s reasons on both sides, not just ‘cause you have amnesia, though that’s part of it.”

Stan crossed his arms. “Do I not get a say in this?”

Kenny shrugged with a chuckle. “Just trust me, okay? If you get your memories back and all, sure, and I guess I can’t exactly stop you, but as things are, it’s safer.”

“... Fine.” Stan was unable to keep his annoyance out of his voice. 

He followed Kenny outside, to an open area of the school grounds that apparently the seniors were allowed to use for lunch while it was warm enough out. There were already a number of other students milling and sitting about, and Kenny strode straight for a pair of students sitting under a tree. One was black with long dreads in a purple shirt, and the other had messy blond hair and a green button-up. Kenny gave them a little wave. “Hey guys.”

The black guy smiled. “Hey Kenny. Hey Stan, good to see you.”

Stan smiled weakly, then Kenny pat his shoulder. “See you later, dude.”

“See ya…” Stan hesitated a moment as Kenny walked away, then sat down with them. “So… I guess I’m hanging around you guys for now? Kenny said something about my friends thinking it’d be better if I wasn’t with them at the moment.”

The blond grimaced. “I don’t blame them, if what I’ve heard is true.”

The black guy shook his head. “I’m Token, and this is Tweek. We’ve got two others that’ll be here, they’re just in line to get school lunch. We knew each other before, but we weren’t the closest, primarily due to clashing friend groups. An dyea, from what rumors have been going around, they’re responsible for your accident to begin with.”

“Really?” Stan’s brows furrowed. Kenny didn’t seem all that dangerous, or even necessarily malicious. “Wow.”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” Token said. “They’re just looking out for you, and hey, whenever your memory comes back, you can rag on them about why. Or maybe you’ll agree with their choice, who knows.” He opened his own lunchbox while Tweek pulled a sandwich from a plastic bag.

“Guess I can only take your word for it. I don’t even know who my friends were before all this.” A thought occurred to Stan. “Shit, was I dating anyone before the accident?”

Tweek quickly shook his head. “Not as far as we know. I’m sure Kenny would’ve mentioned it if it was important.”

“I guess.” Stan hummed in thought. Well, if he  _ had _ been dating someone, they’d likely either approach him about it or keep to themselves since he couldn’t remember. He grabbed his sandwich from his bag and started eating.

A guy in a blue hat plopped down beside Tweek. “Ugh, school lunch smells like garbage, as always.”

“You’ve been spoiled too much,” a brunet laughed as he sat on Token’s other side.

Token snorted. “Stan, this is Clyde,” he pointed to the brunet, “and that’s Tweek’s boyfriend, Craig.” He pointed to the other guy, who looked blankly at Stan.

“Oh right, you’re with us now,” he drawled.

Tweek lightly elbowed him. “Be nice, Craig.”

Stan smiled weakly, brushing it aside. “Spoiled? What’s that mean?”

“Tweek usually makes his own lunch, and he’ll bring me some too,” Craig admitted. “He was running late today and only managed to slap together a sandwich for himself.”

“Be prepared for PDA with these two. It’s been seven and a half years and they’re still as grossly in love as ever,” Clyde said, voice teasing.

Craig immediately flipped off Clyde while Tweek rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. Token shook his head in a way that told Stan this was pretty much business as usual. Stan felt a little out of place in such a clearly close-knit group, but if they were willing to have him there, he figured it would fade with time. He ate his food and just listened while they chatted about junk from summer vacation and shows and what teachers they had this year.

Eventually, Stan found it in himself to speak up again. “Hey, um… I don’t really remember anyone, right? So maybe you guys could like, give me a crash course on the people around here. I mean, there’s probably people to avoid and people that are fine and stuff, right?”

Tweek nodded. “Yea, that makes sense. Heh, it feels kinda weird to tell you it, but maybe it’ll bring back some stuff!”

Craig immediately pointed to one of the picnic tables near the school doors. “Them first. The guy with the crutches is Jimmy. He hangs out with us still sometimes, so it’s good to recognize him. The wheelchair guy is Timmy. They… might be dating? I honestly don’t know.”

Stan snorted. “You don’t know?”

Tweek laughed. “Timmy’s verbal communication isn't the best and Jimmy enjoys giving people the runaround, it’s just what they do.”

“Yep. The tiny blond twink is Butters, he’s a nice guy. You guys were friends well enough too, he’d sometimes hang out with your group, but not too often. Pretty sure he mostly wanted to be around Kenny. The taller blond beside him is Pip, he’s annoying as hell but also pretty harmless. Don’t fuck with him, though, because his boyfriend will destroy you,” Craig explained.

Stan looked them over, studying their faces in hopes of memorizing them. “Really?”

“His boyfriend is the son of the devil,” Token replied. “And no, I’m not joking. His name is Damien. Not sure why he’s not here today, he always sits with them too, if Pip is there. Basically, don’t mess with him, don’t bother him, don’t… Don’t talk to him unless you absolutely have to, and he won’t mess with you.”

“Oooooookay then.” Stan made a mental note not to go near Pip or any guy with him besides those four already identified.

“Let’s see, uh… Oh, the girls!” Clyde grabbed Stan’s attention and pointed to a circle of young women sitting in the grass, eating and giggling to one another. “The one with the really curly blond hair is Bebe, the chubby brunette is Heidi, and the chick with the painfully bright red hair is Red. They’re three of the only four you really need to know. The last one is Wendy, guess she’s not here yet.”

“You've met Kenny,” Token mused, motioning toward the table where Keny was sitting with another boy, rather heavyset and chowing down on his own lunch. “With him is Cartman. Just… Stay away from him. He’s bad news for everyone.”

Stan frowned, feeling a twinge of anger as he looked at Cartman. “Was he another guy I was friends with?”

“Mhm…” Tweek fidgeted with the bag he’d had his sandwich in. “If I had to take a guess, he was directly responsible for what happened. He tends to be, when things go wrong. Him and another friend.”

“... What  _ did _ happen?” Stan asked, turning back to the group.

Craig shrugged one shoulder. “No one knows for sure, I think. There’s been plenty of rumors, because of course there are, but with you four, it could’ve been literally anything.”

Stan pursed his lips. It was a little frustrating, not knowing what happened. He figured he could ask, but considering his friends apparently didn’t want him around them while he was amnesiac, it was doubtful he’d get many answers. He turned to look at Kenny and Cartman again, but as he did so, two people coming out of the school doors caught his attention, and his jaw dropped.

One was a young woman, with long black hair and a pink sweater, and she was rather pretty. Stan got an aura of confidence and determination from her, and her lips were pressed into a tight frown as she spoke to the guy beside her.

He was  _ gorgeous _ . Stan didn’t know if he’d ever seen a prettier face, but he seriously doubted it. The guy was on the shorter side, and definitely chubby, but in that perfect way that made him look soft and huggable. His hat covered what his hair might’ve looked like, but Stan was willing to bet it was as soft as his pale, freckled skin looked. His brows were tightly knit as he spoke to the girl, seeming frustrated about something.

“Guys?” Stan said weakly, “Who’s that?”

The others looked up, and Clyde snickered. “Oh yea, that’s Wendy, the last girl that’s important to know. You two used to date, you know, though you broke up freshman year. No idea why. She’s beautiful, huh?”

“Oh, uh, sure, but…” Stan glanced at Clyde. “The other one..?”

All four seemed rather confused at that. “Wait… Do you mean the guy with her?” Tweek asked.

“Yea, he’s…” Stan cleared his throat awkwardly. “Who is he?”

“... That’s Kyle, the other guy you should stay away from because he was part of your friend group that got you hurt,” Craig said, voice flat.

“Oh.” To say that Stan was disappointed was an understatement. Wendy seemed to notice his staring and looked at him, smiling brightly and waving. As Stan smiled weakly and waved back, Kyle caught his eye. His expression shifted into something almost upset as he said something to her before walking swiftly to Kenny and Cartman’s table. “... Are you  _ sure? _ ” Stan asked as he turned away from Wendy again.

“I don’t think it’s common knowledge that you’re into guys,” Token said, looking amused, “let alone Kyle. You might want to keep that one to yourself, for now.”

Stan felt his face heat, especially with the rest of the young men looking amused. “Gotcha.”

He fell quiet again, letting his gaze drift over. Wendy had joined the rest of the girls, and Kyle seemed to have gotten into an argument with Cartman. He looked kind of cute, angry like that, but the sight also filled Stan with an undeniable sense of worry.

Suddenly, Kyle looked over again, catching Stan staring, and he looked halfway between annoyed and confused. Stan tore his gaze away, flushing with embarrassment at being caught. Shit. He was about to ask Token about any other students he should know when the bell rang, and everyone began to get up to head back to class.

“Alright, see you here tomorrow?” Token asked as he stood, smiling at Stan.

“Oh, yea, sure,” Stan replied, standing as well.

The group waved to him before heading off, and Stan lingered behind a bit to pick up his trash and toss it away. When he made his way through the doors, he spotted Kyle walking away.

Damn. Not only was he gorgeous and huggable, but he had a pretty amazing ass too.

Stan cursed their situation. He used to be friends with that guy? Damn whatever accident had taken his memory and made his apparently former friends want him to take a step away from them. Then again, maybe that was part of why. Stan hoped he hadn’t been a creep and Kyle was taking the opportunity to get away from him. He’d feel awful if it was that.

The rest of the school day was rather uneventful. He saw members of his new friend group in a few of his classes, nearly broke his foot by dropping a new textbook on it, then tossed it all in his locker before heading out. His mom was in the line of cars, waiting to pick him up.

“So, how was it?” she asked tentatively as he dropped into the passenger seat.

Stan shrugged. “Fine. Apparently my former friends don’t want me hanging around them and set me up with another group. They’re cool guys. It’s uh, Craig, Tweek, Clyde, and Token, if you know them.”

“I remember, you spent time with them occasionally. They’re good kids. As long as you’re not completely alone, I suppose, then there’s not much to do about the rest. Maybe as your memory comes back, they’ll come around,” she said as she navigated her way through the afterschool traffic. “We’ve still got a lot of unpacking to do. Do you remember why we’ve moved into this house..?”

Stan’s brow furrowed as he thought. “... Something about dad, I dunno.”

Sharon smiled faintly. “I suppose that’s enough for now. Perhaps unpacking your old things will help trigger some memories.”

“Sounds good.”

They were quiet for the rest of the ride home, but as Sharon pulled into the driveway, a flicker of green caught Stan’s eye. He looked at the house next to theirs and spotted Kyle heading in, presumably having driven himself home. Stan felt a lump in his throat. “Kyle lives there?”

“Hm?” Share glanced at the house, then back at Stan. “Oh, yes. You two grew up as neighbors for quite some time, before we moved to the farm. You were looking forward to being neighbors again.”

Stan bit his lip. The others had said his friends wanted him to stay away, but if they had really been friends, wouldn’t Kyle be happy to see him? Stan took a deep breath and got out of the car, heading over to Kyle’s house. He knocked on the front door, trying to stamp down his nerves.

A young man who definitely wasn’t Kyle answered the door. He was of middling height and quite lanky, with a shock of black hair. “Huh? Stan, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to Kyle, I saw him head in here.” Stan only realized how creepy that might sound after he said it. “I, uh, my mom said you guys have always lived here?”

“Yea. Still missing your memory?” the guy asked.

Stan nodded. This kid was definitely familiar, if only faintly. “I feel like I knew you, but I’m not really sure.”

The kid motioned him inside and Stan followed, shutting the door behind himself. “Kyle!” the kid called up the stairs, “Stan’s here to see you!”

Stan looked the kid over, wracking his brain in an attempt to distract himself from his nerves. Obviously this was someone related to Kyle, since he seemed too young to be a friend, which meant Stan probably knew him in some capacity before, especially if he’d been close friends and neighbors with Kyle. But what was his name? “... I’m trying to think of your name, but all that comes is something about kicking babies,” Stan admitted in frustration.

The kid looked surprised, then cracked up laughing. “Guess it’s all still in there somewhere, then! I’m Ike, Kyle used to play ‘kick the baby’ with me when I was really tiny. Brothers, y’know?”

“Ah, right. Sorry.” It was painfully awkward, not remembering someone who clearly knew Stan well.

Ike shrugged. “No worries, dude. I get it, your brain’s not all there and stuff.”

Before Stan could reply, Kyle finally appeared at the top of the stairs, brows furrowed. “Stan, what the hell are you doing here? I thought Kenny told you-”

“I wanted to see you,” Stan blurted out. Kyle had taken off his hat, and Stan could see his long red hair, curly and wild and seemingly barely restrained in a low ponytail. He was so beautiful. “I mean… We were friends, right? It doesn't really feel right to throw that all away just because I lost my memory. And… you’re apparently one of the only people who knows what happened to me, and I’m kinda curious about that too.”

A flurry of emotion flickered across Kyle’s face, settling into guilt for a moment before returning to resolve and frustration. It was fascinating, how expressive he was. Stan could even see his nose wrinkle a little. God, Stan wanted to barf.

“Stan, look… I get it, but it’s really better for everyone if you don’t hang around us,” Kyle said firmly.

Ike seemed surprised by this, which gave Stan the moxie to press Kyle on the matter. “What does that mean, though? If we were friends so long, why’s this accident change everything? And what about when my memory comes back? It’s still there, it’s bound to come back eventually. Do you really just want to throw it all away?”

There it was again. Guilt, anger, sadness, all mixing in Kyle’s eyes. “If… If you hadn’t lost your memory, things probably wouldn’t have changed. But while you don’t remember… If you get your memory back, then we’ll talk.”

“How much will it take before you let me back in, then?” Stan asked, hands clenched in frustration.

Kyle was quiet for a moment. Then he turned away. “When you remember what you need to, you’ll know,” he said before heading back into his room.

Stan’s shoulders slumped as he was filled with a deep sensation of loss. Ike glanced between Stan and the stairs for a moment before stepping towards him. “Hey, dude, I don’t know what's going on, but I’ll talk to him, okay? He’s… always been kind of emotional, even if he acts like he’s not. He might just need some sense knocked into him.”

“Yea. Thanks Ike,” Stan said, smiling weakly. He watched Ike head upstairs before leaving, hands in his pockets.

Maybe he’d done something wrong, before the accident, and that was why Kyle didn’t want anything to do with him. Kenny had been friendly enough, but Kyle clearly was trying to get him away, though he made it clear it didn’t have to be permanent. What was it that Kyle wanted him to remember, though? Stan didn’t have a clue, and as much as he desperately tried to wrack his mind, trying to reach into that unknown hour, it felt like his fingers only closed around air.

Stan sighed and headed into his own house, glancing around at all the boxes that still needed unpacking. He could only pray, as he headed up to his room, that there might be some answers among his belongings.

* * *

Kyle was sitting in the dark as his door was shoved open. Ike stood in the light from the hall, looking furious. “Kyle, what the fuck was that?!”

“Fuck off, Ike, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Like hell it does! You’re seriously just going to shove Stan out of your life because he can’t remember something? Even if he doesn’t, it’s pretty clear he still cares about you and feels like you’re his friend!”

Kyle clenched his hands tightly against his desk. “I’m feeling like shit enough without you getting pissed at me. The stuff Stan forgot, all the secrets and time, it’s not… It’s my fault.”

Ike frowned. “So what, is it just guilt? If you’re feeling that bad about it, maybe you should be helping him instead of shoving him away. What’s going on?”

Kyle sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe I could if you’d just tell me,” Ike huffed.

“Get the fuck out of my room, alright? I want to be alone,” Kyle hissed, glaring at Ike.

Ike growled in frustration. “Fine, be miserable all by yourself, you giant fucking baby.” He slammed the door and left Kyle alone in the darkness of his room once more.

Kyle slumped back in his chair, feeling bad for fending both Stan and Ike off. But there was no way Ike could ever, ever understand, and Stan…

It was better this way. If Stan couldn’t remember, then he couldn't understand, and if he couldn’t understand, if he couldn’t know… There were things Kyle just couldn’t take back. Not for the first time, Kyle wished he had fallen instead of Stan. It would have been perfectly fine if Kyle had gotten amnesia, but Stan was probably the worst case scenario of any of them. It wasn’t fair.

How did you take back years of counting the stars your best friend gave you? HOw did you take back the years of agony and trial and error and struggling, all the fights and climbing and secrets whispered in the dark?

Kyle couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear to stand beside his best friend and not be able to spill the shadows between them as they’d done for all these years. If he could tell Stan, if he could just remind Stan of the memory, perhaps it would be alright, but…

Not yet. These things took far more than courage.

* * *

Stan plopped himself down in front of a box labeled ‘clothes.’ It was the last one full of them, at least, and he’d thankfully had the foresight to keep them all folded neatly while packing, so all he had to do was shove them in the right drawers or hang them up. When he reached the bottom of this box, however, he found something unexpected.

It was a hoodie, several sizes too large for Stan himself, with green fabric and white lettering that read “Park High Chess Club.”

Stan got up from the floor, hoodie in his arms, and poked his head out the door. “Mom?”

“Yes?” Sharon called from downstairs. 

“Was I in the chess club at some point?”

There was a pause, then Sharon appeared at the bottom of the stairs, clearly confused. “You went to the club a few times freshman year, but you decided it wasn’t for you.”

“Then why do I apparently own a giant chess team hoodie?” Stan asked, raising a brow as he showed it to her.

“Oh!” Understanding dawned on Sharon and she smiled. “That might be Kyle’s. He’s on the chess team, and obviously wears larger sizes. He must’ve left it at our house the last time he stayed over. Though it  _ is _ a little odd that you packed it with your things instead of just giving it back.”

“Huh. Thanks mom.” Stan ducked back into his room, looking over the hoodie again.

He should probably give it back, but… the thought of trying to talk to Kyle again just frustrated Stan. Screw it, if Kyle left this in Stan’s room and he apparently felt the need to pack it with his own things, Stan was going to keep it. Obviously Kyle wasn’t missing it, since he didn’t ask for it back.

Stan huffed and slung the hoodie over the back of his desk chair before kicking the now empty box into the hallway.

Dragging over one of the non-clothing boxes, he opened it. This one was filled with various knick-knacks and little belongings. A football lamp, a few posters, a veritable hoard of CDs, and plenty of other junk. The CDs were a little weird, he thought. After all, who listened to CDs nowadays? But maybe they were from when he was pretty young. He shrugged and started setting things up around his room.

While he definitely recognized these things as  _ his _ , for the most part, if there were any significant memories attached to them, he couldn’t reach them. But one item, at the very bottom of the box, gave him pause when he picked it up. It was a rather simple pin, plain red with a black T on it, but it felt very, very familiar, and a faint voice echoed in his mind.

_ ‘Come back to the team, ‘Shed.’ _

It was the voice of someone young, someone he definitely knew and was close to. He turned it over in his hands before pulling out his phone. Flicking through his contacts, he found he already had most of the guys from earlier in his phone. It was a little reassuring to find that he was at least familiar enough with them to have their numbers. At least his former friends hadn’t dumped him on a bunch of strangers.

He tapped Token’s contact. It seemed his history had been cleared at some point, or perhaps the phone was relatively new, since there weren’t any messages there. He tapped the option to take a picture, then photographed the button, sending it off with a message.  _ ‘Hey token do you recognize this?’ _

While he wanted for a response, he decided to look through the rest of his contacts to see if there were any messages that could bring something back. The newer phone theory was looking more likely, as they were none from or to Tweek, Craig, Jimmy, or someone named Scott. Clyde wasn’t in his phone at all, something he made a mental note to fix later. There were a few messages to Cartman, Butters, and Kenny, and an entire conversation with Timmy. His typing wasn’t great, but it was good enough for Stan to understand. Why the hell they’d had a rather lengthy conversation about breakfast foods, however, Stan hadn’t the faintest idea.

And then there was Kyle. There were plenty of messages there, but they were fairly meaningless without context. The history showed far more calls, instead, and there was no knowing what those conversations might’ve been about.

It felt, in a way, like everything led back to Kyle. Being such close friends, Stan supposed it only made sense that Kyle had such a large influence in his life. It burned inside him, a fierce ache deep in his chest. They’d been so close, he just couldn’t  _ remember _ .

His phone buzzed with a message from Token.  _ ‘Oh yea, that was from when we played superheroes as kids! You were Toolshed, a gadgeteer who used tools. Probably pretty self-explanatory there.’ _

That rang a lot of bells. Stan bit his lip as he turned it all over in his mind. It had been both of their friend groups, hadn’t it?  _ ‘Ok am i crazy or did you have a suit made of plastic containers?’ _

The next response was far quicker.  _ ‘Hah, not crazy. I was Tupperware, and yes, my super suit was made out of Tupperware containers. We were weird kids.’ _

_ ‘Lol’ _

Stan chuckled and pocketed his phone. He decided to put the pin on his desk, beside his computer. The memories were vague- A bunch of kids fighting amongst themselves and trying to be superheroes and overall just being stupid children.

It gave him hope. The past was there, in his mind, he just needed to find ways to reach it. Stan hoped that whatever Kyle needed him to remember, he’d be able to get to it soon, most likely without Kyle’s help.

* * *

Stan groaned as he flopped onto the grass, just laying back. “Hey.”

Craig raised a brow and leaned over Stan. “Where’s your lunch?”

“Not hungry,” Stan mumbled. “Brain’s being shit.”

“Ah.” Craig sat back up, seeming to understand.

Stan sighed. Reaching back was difficult, but he could remember this. “Why do brains sometimes wanna kill you? Aren’t they supposed to keep you alive?”

“A-fucking-men,” Tweek replied. “You should try to eat something, at least. You’re taking antidepressants, right? Did you miss a day?”

Stan just groaned. Eating sounded like way too much effort. “Yea. Mom says I’m a lot better than I was in middle school, but sometimes it’s just…” He blew a raspberry to finish the thought.

“Oh yea, I remember how you were back then,” Token said with a grimace. “It wasn’t the worst, sure, but it still wasn’t good. We were more focused on Tweek, though, and helping him through his recovery.”

Tweek shuddered. “That was a waking nightmare. So glad it’s behind me.”

Clyde smiled. “Would you eat if I tossed tater tots in your mouth? They’re school tots, but you can’t really get tater tots wrong.”

“... You played basketball at some point, didn’t you?” Stan asked, glancing at Clyde as best he could from his position.

Clyde nodded. “Most of middle school. I ditched it to focus on football.”

“Sure, sounds like a plan, if you really want.” Stan laid flat on his back and opened his mouth.

The first tater tot hit Stan in the forehead, but Clyde got the next in without much issue. Token chuckled as Stan chewed it down. “I’ve never understood some of the depression and mental illness workarounds, but I guess I can be thankful for that.”

Stan opened his mouth and got another tot tossed in. “Mm… I’m sure I had a bunch of tricks and shit to deal with things, but I don’t remember. My mom’s been the one reminding me to take my pills. I kinda feel like shit for even needing them.”

“Well… Scott needs insulin to live, not like he’s lesser for it or anything,” Token pointed out.

“If you can’t make your own serotonin, store bought is fine,” Tweek joked. “Sometimes you just gotta- Oh! Uh, hey Kyle!”

Stan jerked himself into a sitting position to see Kyle walking up to them, lips pursed. He was holding a paper bag in hand. Stopping in front of Stan, he held it out. “Here. Your mom flagged me down as I was leaving, asked me to bring you your lunch since you forgot it.”

Stan took it and rubbed his neck. “Ah, thanks dude. Do you wanna sit with us for a bit..?” he asked.

Kyle’s reply was immediate. “No thanks.” He turned around sharply and walked away, not giving Stan a second glance.

The five of them stared after Kyle for a few moments before Clyde spoke up. “Is it just me, or was Kyle being ice cold?”

Stan turned back to the other guys, setting the bag down. “I didn’t bring it because I wasn’t hungry. And now I’m even less so.”

Even Craig looked somewhat troubled by the interaction. “I don’t know what his deal is. I get that he wanted you to stay away from them for your own safety, but…”

“If you’re not going to eat that, you should give it to Kenny, and see if he can clue you in while you’re at it,” Token said. “If anyone knows what’s going on with Kyle, it’s him.”

“Yea, okay.” Stan felt terrible. “What if I did something? Would he even accept an apology if I don’t remember it?” He’d suspected maybe he’d done something wrong when he initially spoke to Kyle last week, when Kyle had told him he needed to remember something important, but now he was even more sure of it.

“I dunno, dude, but whatever it is, We’ll help you figure it out if we can,” Clyde said firmly.

Stan tilted his head, glancing around at them. “... Was I really not friends with you guys before all this?”

“Well, it’s not that we weren’t friends, it was more that we weren’t all that close,” Tweek explained. “We all refuse to be around Cartman more than we absolutely have to nowadays, so it really limited our interactions. It’s the same reason Butters doesn’t hang out with Kenny and Kyle as much despite being friends with them. Cartman is just… yea.”

“I mean, I used to hate you in elementary school, kind of, but kids are stupid.” Craig chuckled. “We made a pretty good pair for baseball in middle school, though, even if you did crack my rib with a throw once.”

Stan’s eyes widened in shock. “I what?!”

“It wasn’t  _ cracked _ , just badly bruised,” Tweek corrected with a roll of his eyes. “You did cry like a baby about it, though.”

“Hey, that shit hurt like hell.” Craig grumbled under his breath some while Tweek smiled fondly.

The bell rang, ending the conversation. As Stan picked up his lunch bag, though, Token lingered behind to walk with him. “Hey, Stan, if you’re feeling up to it, you should come by the football field after school. We have practice there like, every other day.”

Stan rubbed his neck. “I’ll see if I can make it. After what just happened, though, going home and sleeping all weekend sounds pretty good.”

Token smiled sympathetically. “Yea, I don’t blame you there. Kyle being an ass on top of a day your brain is already giving you hell can't be fun. Well, like I said, we have practice a lot, so even if you can’t make it today, maybe you can come another time. See you later, Stan.”

“See ya.” Stan gave him a little wave as they parted, heading to their own lockers.

Stan hesitated as he saw Kenny at the lockers, and he nearly said something, but he decided to wait until after school. They both needed to get to class, and Stan wasn’t sure they’d be able to properly discuss it in such a short window of time. So he threw his lunch in his locker, grabbed his books, and headed off to class. 

He couldn’t keep his mind off of Kyle’s cold shoulder, recalling the hoodie he had draped over the back of his desk chair at home. He let himself daydream for a few moments, while the teacher droned on, of tugging it on and getting some sleep that made him feel rested for once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's chapter 2. I was hoping to build up a chapter buffer so I could post about once a week, but that's fallen through due to Real Life Nonsense, for now at least. I'll still do my best to post once a week, but I make no promises on the timeline. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.

Kenny closed his locker after a long day of high school bullshit, only to turn around and see Stan standing right behind him. “Whoa! Holy shit, dude, how long have you been standing there?”

Stan shrugged. “Just a few seconds. I need to talk to you. Also wanted to give you my lunch, I wasn’t hungry.” He held up a brown paper bag.

Kenny paused. He could recognize the tired and saddened look on Stan’s face easily. He was having one of those depression heavy days. “Yea? What’s up?” He took the bag and peeked inside. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, even if he was worried about his friend not eating. “Hey, wait a minute…”

“What?”

Kenny pulled out the sandwich in the lunch bag, looking it over. “... This is Kyle’s lunch. What the hell are you doing with this?”

Stan looked just as confused as Kenny felt. “He came up to me at lunch today and told me my mom gave him my lunch to bring to me since I forgot it. Why do you think it’s his?”

“Because he always has a turkey bacon BLT and buffalo pretzel bites for lunch. You’ll eat buffalo pretzel bites, but you don’t really care for them. That would also explain why Kyle didn’t have lunch today… Weird.”

“You’re fucking telling me, considering how he’s been acting. I feel like he’s mad at me. He just gave that to me and bailed. Even the other guys noticed he’s being really cold.” Stan crossed his arms, looking upset. “Now you’re telling me he gave me his lunch? Why would he do that?”

“Well…” Kenny pursed his lips. That might explain why Kyle was so distant when he sat with them at lunch, utterly ignoring both himself and Cartman even when they asked where his food was. “If I had to take a guess for the lunch thing… Well, he can tell when you’re having one of your bad days pretty easy. He probably saw you didn’t have lunch and got worried.”

“Mixed signals much? I feel like he doesn’t want me anywhere near him, but at the same time, he wants me to try anyway. Or maybe that’s just me really wanting to try,” Stan said with a sigh. “When I got hurt… What happened, Kenny? Maybe if I knew, I could figure out why he’s pushing me away.” The desperation in Stan’s voice just about broke Kenny’s heart.

Kenny had seen their affection for one another since they were all young, and it had only grown over the years. He’d always figured something would come of it eventually, if they weren’t secretly together already. Kenny wouldn’t have held it against them if they were; in this town, sometimes it was best if you kept shit to yourself. But that accident… Kenny hated to remember it, and not just because of what happened to Stan. Stan deserved to know, though, especially if Kyle’s cold shoulder was troubling him.

“I dunno if it’ll help much, but I can tell you. It was mostly business as usual; I was chilling, Cartman picked a fight with Kyle, and then you stepped in. I was kinda tuned out the conversation at the time, so I dunno what you guys were talking about. I’m wishing I had, now. Next thing I knew, Cartman was shoving you. We were on that high bridge, the one that connects North and South Park, and you fell over the edge,” Kenny explained, bile rising in the back of his throat at the memory. “Afterwards, when we got word that you had amnesia… Well, we were both pissed at Cartman, and I suggested maybe we should keep you away from him, since he might try to take advantage of your amnesia for shit.”

“Is that why Kyle keeps pushing me away, then? From what I can tell, we were pretty close before.”

Kenny nodded. “Might be. Cartman really loves messing with Kyle, it’s not like me where I can just bail for a little while.”

Stan rubbed his neck, thinking about it. “But… I went over to his place after the first day of school, ‘cause I wanted to try talking to him. He told me there was something I needed to remember, and that I’d know when I remembered it. Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Something you need to remember..?” Kenny frowned, confusion filling him. He really wasn’t used to being out of the loop, since he normally had a very firm grasp on what was going on in South Park, especially nowadays. “I have absolutely no idea. Probably something just between the two of you, or else he’d have told me not to tell you if he really wants you to remember on your own.”

Stan groaned and reached up, taking his beanie off to run a hand through his hair. “Damnit!”

“Sorry dude. I gotta admit, though…” Kenny worried his lip in his teeth, unsure if he should say this. “Well… I know Kyle’s been handling the whole thing pretty badly, and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he blames himself for what happened. But normally I’d expect him to be helping you. I didn’t think too much of him pushing you away at first, but if he wants you to remember something before you can hang out again… I dunno. Something’s definitely up. I’ll try to talk to him, see if I can pry something loose, okay?”

Stan nodded, shoulders slumping as he tugged his hat back on. “Thanks Kenny. Maybe I’ll head to the bridge, see if being there doesn’t jog something. If the argument had something to do with it, it’d be worth trying to get that memory back.”

“I doubt it, but worth a shot if you really want to.” Kenny knew Stan would ever remember the event in full, but he might be able to remember the argument, at least.

“See you around, dude.” Stan gave him a wave and a small smile before heading off.

Kenny waved back, and once Stan was gone, he sighed. He would certainly love to know what was going on as well. He turned and walked toward the room the chess club usually met in after school. He figured right after the club let out was his best bet for catching Kyle without Cartman at the moment. To his surprise, however, he didn’t have to wait at all.

Kyle stepped out of the classroom as Kenny approached, arms crossed and looking annoyed, with Butters following close behind, concern written all over his face. “Kyle, what was that about? I know you got a little temper, but yellin’ at the freshmen… That isn’t you, buddy.”

Kyle turned on his heel with a huff. “Look, I just don’t want to deal with their stupid shit right now, okay? Most of them are gonna bail in a few meetings anyway, and the only ones who’ll stick around are probably those two who already know how to play fairly well. You can try to teach a couple of morons if you want, I’m hitting the can.” He quickly walked to the nearby bathroom, shoving his way through the door.

Kenny raised a brow, stepping closer. “Whoa, what the fuck just happened?”

Surprised, Butters turned and smiled at Kenny. “Oh, hey Ken! I dunno, Kyle was bein’ quiet while the club president was talking to the freshmen considering joining, but when someone asked him a question he just kinda bit their heads off. I think he’s really not feelin’ too good. We share most of our classes this year, and he was noddin’ off the whole day.”

“Wow. That’s… pretty weird for him. Maybe this Stan thing is hitting him harder than I thought. Apparently he gave Stan his lunch today, and made up some bullshit about Stan’s mom getting him to bring the lunch Stan forgot. Stan was definitely having a depression day, Kyle probably picked up on it,” Kenny told him.

Butters bit his lip. “I’m thinkin’ maybe keeping Stan away was a bad idea… I mean, if it’s upsetting Kyle this bad…”

“I dunno, Buttercup. I’m gonna try to talk to him. He’ll probably wanna head home after that sort of blow up.”

“Alright Ken, I’m sure you’ll get through to him.” Butters smiled and gave him a quick hug before heading back into the classroom.

Kenny smiled as he watched Butters go. How someone in his situation could remain so sweet, Kenny would never understand. Still, now was not the time for Kenny to pine. Now was the time for him to worry about one of his best friends.

Kyle came out of the bathroom after a little while, and Kenny was struck by how  _ exhausted _ he seemed. Still, Kenny smiled and waved. “Hey dude!”

Looking surprised for a moment, Kyle approached him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well… First, I wanna check if you’re okay. Butters said you blew your top in club today,” Kenny said, falling into step alongside Kyle.

Kyle headed for his locker. “It’s fine, I’m just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well, so, y’know, grumpier than usual.” Kyle shrugged.

“If you say so. I wanted to talk to you about something else, too. You gave Stan your lunch today..?” Kenny held up the bag with a raised brow.

Kyle’s face shifted into a carefully schooled expression, and Kenny now knew for a fact that he was hiding something. “I’ll give you a ride home, we can talk in the car.”

“Fine.”

They stayed quiet while Kyle got his backpack from his locker, then headed out toward Kyle’s car. Kenny dropped into the passenger seat while Kyle started the engine, then turned off the radio.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at Kenny. “Lemme guess, you saw it was what I usually pack for lunch?”

“Uh, yea. When you eat the same thing for lunch almost every day for the better part of six years, it’s a little noticeable, dude,” Kenny pointed out.

Kyle pulled on his seatbelt. “Well, if you know that so well, you probably already know why I did it, too.”

“Sure. But what I don’t get is the way you’re acting. You lied to him about why you were giving it to him, and you’re shoving him away. Stan’s pretty worked up about it. At first I thought it was just about Cartman, but it kinda feels like there’s something else going on,” Kenny said, buckling himself in as well.

In all honesty, Kenny was starting to get a little unnerved. It was weird, knowing he was this far out of the loop, that something was going on with Kyle and Stan, and that he had no idea what was wrong or how to help.

Kyle sighed. “It’s complicated, alright? There’s a lot more to it than just Stan not remembering shit.”

“He told me you said he needed to remember something important.”

While Kenny spoke, Kyle took hold of the wheel, and his knuckles went white. Kenny watched Kyle’s jaw work tensely, but it wasn’t a motion of anger, Kenny realized. No, whatever it was, Kyle was deeply  _ upset _ about it. All Kenny could really do was wait.

“... I meant what I said,” was Kyle's only reply.

“Okay… I’m guessing there’s a good reason you can’t tell him whatever it is he needs to know?” Kenny probed. “If you told him before, or he told you before, surely you can do it again. Or I could tell him, you know I’ll help if you need it.”

“That’s one of the problems. I didn’t tell him before. He found out by accident, and we’re the only ones who know.”

Okay, that answered a few questions. One, it was indeed a secret between only the two of them. Two, it was a secret of Kyle’s and not one of Stan’s that he’d gone and forgotten about himself. Three, it wasn’t as simple as just telling Stan again, since Kyle hadn’t even done it the first time, when there was already a tight bond and history between them. Losing that clearly didn’t make spilling said secret any easier. 

“Okay,” Kenny said, “but is it really something so critical that it means you can’t hang out with him at all until he remembers?”

Kyle didn’t answer at first. Instead, he glanced out the rear view mirror before slowly backing out of his parking space. Kenny figured driving was a good excuse for Kyle not to look at Kenny while talking about this. Kenny just waited patiently for Kyle to respond. “There are some things you can’t take back,” Kyle finally said, voice thick with an emotion Kenny couldn’t quite place. “If Butters told you he hated your guts and had all along, then got amnesia a few days later and acted like he usually did, could you still look at him the same way?”

“Well… No, I guess not. Wait, Stan didn’t say he hated you, did he? When he found out your secret?” Kenny couldn’t imagine it, but he never would’ve imagined they’d end up in this scenario in the first place.

Thankfully, Kyle shook his head. “No, I was just using that as an example. And… He found out three years ago. So it’s been going on for a little while, my… our secret.”

Kenny just stared at Kyle, completely stunned. Something had been going on between them throughout high school and somehow he’d never pinned it down? The fuck? “Okay… Well… Look, Kyle, it’s pretty clear that whatever’s going on, you’re not happy about it. And Stan’s pretty hurt about you shoving him away, he seriously thinks he did something wrong and he’s desperate to know what’s going on. It’s clear he still values your friendship even without the memories. So… Promise me you’ll try to tell him? Or you can tell me, and I can help. I know you and I have never been as close as you and Stan, but… I’m your friend too, dude.”

A bit of guilt settled into Kyle’s face. “I promise, I’ll try. It’s just… It can feel impossible.”

“As long as you’re trying, dude. In the meantime, I’m gonna hang out with Stan some, when Cartman isn’t around at least. I wanna try and jog his memory and stuff. Plus, I just kinda miss having him around, y’know? Even if it hasn’t been that long,” Kenny replied with a chuckle. “I’m sure he’ll remember soon. I mean, he seems to be getting a handle on other stuff, and it’s in there somewhere.”

Kyle smiled faintly. “He tried to remember Ike’s name, but all he could manage was recalling something about kicking babies, apparently.”

Kenny cracked up. “Oh God, that’s perfect!” He laughed for quite a bit as Kyle approached the McCormick house. As they neared it, Kenny managed to catch his breath, wiping a tear from his eye. “Shit, that’s hilarious. Seriously though, it’s a good sign, isn’t it? He’ll remember.”

“I hope you’re right. Now get out of my car, asshole,” Kyle said with a small grin as he stopped at the end of the road.

Kenny chuckled and opened the door. “See you later man.”

“See you.”

Kenny waved as Kyle pulled a u-turn and drove off. Then he headed inside, turning the day’s events over in his head. Stan needed to know it wasn’t his fault, and Kenny hoped he’d be able to convince Stan of that, since he knew that Stan’s depression was likely dragging him down about the whole scenario. He could also give Stan what Kyle had told him, about how long ago it had been and that Kyle really did want him back as a friend, it just wasn’t easy due to the secret they’d shared.

Maybe he could just tell Stan that Kyle had a crush on him. It was true, after all, and if they’d been having some secret affair, it could trigger Stan’s memory. At the very least, it might be able to solve the whole ‘Stan doesn’t know about this huge secret Kyle’s kept hidden and doesn’t have the courage to tell’ problem. But it could also massively backfire if that wasn’t actually the problem in the first place, not to mention Kyle would be furious with Kenny for doing so no matter the outcome.

Perhaps it would simply be best to give Stan what he had so far and let the rest play out for the moment. Kenny could bide his time, gather more information, and help Stan recover some of his memory, with any luck. And if the opportunity arose, Kenny could make good use of it, he was sure, no matter what form it happened to take.

* * *

Kyle collapsed into bed when he got to his room.

He should’ve seen that coming. Stan was more upset about Kyle’s behavior than Kyle had anticipated him being, it had been obvious just by how he’d come to see Kyle after their first day back to school. Kyle had hoped this sort of thing would take a little longer to occur, though.

Kenny’s confrontation was just bad timing, with Kyle already being pissed off from chess club newbies and exhausted from lack of sleep. He’d have to apologize to Butters later- that guy was way too patient with people nowadays.

But Kyle supposed that was part of why they were still friends after all these years.

Either way, Kenny now knew far more than Kyle had ever intended him to, even if it wasn’t actually all that much in the grand scheme of things. He clearly still had no clue what was really going on.

His bedroom door creaked open, and Kyle lifted his head with a frown. Ike was peeking inside. “Ike? What do you want?”

“Mom’s about done with dinner. Are you coming down?” Ike asked.

Kyle sighed. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

Ike frowned and opened the door further, stepping inside. “You’ve said that the past three days. Mom’s getting worried about you not eating.”

“I am eating,” Kyle protested. “I just get leftovers at night. It’s not a big deal, sheesh.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy Ike. He crossed his arms, glaring at Kyle. “Are you really not hungry, or are you just sitting up here wallowing because you’re making yourself miserable avoiding Stan?”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Ike. You don’t know shit about what’s going on.”

“I know that if  _ my _ best friend got amnesia, I wouldn’t just fucking drop him with a group of other people and then pout about it,” Ike bit.

Kyle glared back. “That’s good for you. If only my situation were so damn simple.”

“It probably is, you just like to make things way more complicated than they need to be. And even if it isn’t, there’s gotta be a better way than fucking moping about it. It’s almost  _ embarrassing _ to watch.”

Kyle got up and walked over to Ike, glaring at him. He towered over his little brother, far larger and heavier with their age discrepancy and differing body types. “Get out. I didn’t ask for your opinion and I don’t want your advice. You’re ten, you don’t know  _ shit _ about what’s going on with me and Stan.”

Ike’s eyes narrowed. It was pretty clear he wasn’t actually intimidated by this, he never was, but it was Kyle’s way of making sure Ike knew he wasn’t putting up with any shit. And as always, Ike backed down. “Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you lose your best friend forever because you’re being a raging asshole, though.” He headed downstairs, calling to their mom that Kyle didn’t want to eat with them.

Kyle sighed and shut the door, running his hand over his face. He loved Ike dearly, but being so smart made him think he was also a lot more experienced than most kids his age, when really, he was just as much of a dumb fuck as the rest of them.

If it were anything else, Kyle would agree that he was being stupid. He might even thank Ike for giving him a good kick in the head, once Kyle got over himself at least. But it was all… All wrong, now.

He grabbed his jacket from the chair and left his room, heading downstairs. He needed to get out of the house. “Heading over to Cartman’s!” he called toward the kitchen.

“You’re- Oh, alright, just be back before dark!” came Sheila’s voice from the kitchen.

“Got it, mom!”

* * *

Stan figured he was adjusting about as well as he could be expected to.

He was doing alright with classes so far, he had his good and bad days as far as his depression went, and according to his mom they were pretty normal fluctuations for him. He was getting a little better about remembering to take his medicine on his own, and he was spending time with his friends. He ate lunch with Craig’s group, and when he felt up for it, he’d hang out with Kenny after school. Kenny had made it clear he still wanted to be friends, but he really only wanted to hang out when they wouldn’t have to deal with Cartman.

Stan was pretty much avoiding Cartman now, not that it was too difficult. He didn’t seem to have much interest in bothering Stan. With Kenny’s help, Stan was slowly but surely regaining memories from their childhoods together, and he noted a common theme in them was Cartman generally being a large source of their troubles, and even when he wasn’t, he tended to make them worse anyways.

“Why the hell was I still friends with him? Why the fuck are you and Kyle still friends with him?” Stan had asked one afternoon while they waited on Karen’s soccer practice to end.

Kenny had shrugged. “Well… I think part of it is just that we’ve known each other our entire lives, it’s just kind of a habit now. I can’t really imagine  _ not _ hanging around him. And besides, he does have some good in him, deep down. Deep… deep…  _ deep _ down.”

Stan definitely didn’t get it.

He’d come to realize, though, that his memory getting locked away had caused him to view South Park from an outsider’s perspective. A lot of the things that he found pretty damn strange, his friends would simply say “That’s South Park.” And when he’d had his memory, he’d likely shrugged it off the same as they did. He supposed he probably would again, once he’d regained everything.

For now, though, he was still fidgety and exhausted from a restless night of insomnia and Token was poking him about coming to their football practice again. Even after nearly a month, Stan hadn’t gone to one yet, but he was a little curious. Besides, the first home game of the season would be coming up soon, and the group of them were getting rather worked up about it.

So Stan finally agreed to go to the practice in spite of his fatigue. He hitched a ride with Token to the Stadium. Token smiled at him apologetically as he drove. “Sorry to bother you about it so much.”

Stan shrugged. “It’s fine, it’ll be good for me to get a little fresh air anyway.”

“Maybe you can take a nap on the bleachers,” Token joked. “We’re all just kind of worked up about it all, and having our friends around helps the nerves a little. And, well, you’re part of that now. Lucky you, huh?”

Laughing, Stan shook his head. “If you say so. I’ll only be able to judge once I see it all. Then again, I’ll probably be doing homework most of the time.”

“That’s fair.”

As they got out of the car at the stadium, Token separated to head off to the locker rooms. Stan took to the stands, breaking out his history book as he sat down. There were a few other people around, but they didn’t pay him much mind. Clyde had joked about him potentially checking out some of the cheerleaders, or even some of the football players, but Stan doubted that would happen. He already knew most of these people from school, after all, and no one had really caught his eye. They were all either too lean or too broad or… 

Well, if he were being honest, they just weren’t Kyle.

Stan could remember now that when they were all growing up, he, Kenny, and Kyle had been about the same build. Nowadays, Stan was basically the textbook image for ‘average,’ not that he minded much. Kenny had gotten tall and lean and handsome, while Kyle was a touch shorter than Stan and had gotten… well, fat. It had to have happened when they really started hitting puberty, probably around middle school, Stan mused.

Stan tugged his phone from his pocket when it buzzed and opened a message from Kenny.  _ ‘where u at?’ _

The message made Stan smile. Karen had soccer practice again today, Stan knew, so Kenny was probably looking for something to do while waiting for her. It made Stan kind of wish he had a big brother like Kenny, sometimes. There was Shelly, sure, but his memories of her weren’t exactly positive, as far as he could recall, and he actually hadn’t seen her since before his accident, since she’d already headed back to college for the fall.  _ ‘football field, token got me to come watch them practice’ _ he replied.

_ ‘b rite there’ _

Stan chuckled. Kenny would also probably appreciate the opportunity to ogle the cheerleaders. And the football players, probably. Stan didn’t quite remember it exactly, but he was almost certain Kenny swung any which way he damn well pleased. Stan did his best to focus on his history book, though his mind drifted as it tended to toward his friends again.

Maybe he could try hanging out with Butters a bit more. They’d grown apart as they got older, but Stan knew he was still good friends with both Kenny and Kyle. Plus, he was just a nice guy overall- Maybe he’d be willing to help Stan with regaining some memories or getting through to Kyle.

Stan jumped a little as someone came up the steps, looking up to see Wendy approaching him with a smile. She sat beside him, and he closed his book with some surprise. “Oh, hey Wendy. What are you doing here?”

Wendy giggled, motioning to herself. “What do you think?”

Oh, she was wearing a cheer uniform. Duh. Stan rubbed his neck with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention. Craig’s gang mostly dragged me along for their practice. So you cheer?”

“Mhm, since middle school. I’m guessing you’re still having troubles with your memory?” she asked, sympathy filling her voice.

Stan shrugged. “It’s coming back, slowly but surely. Very patchy, too. I mostly remember vomiting around you as a kid.”

Laughing, Wendy shook her head. “Thank God you grew out of that, huh? Looking back, it was honestly kind of concerning, I’d say. Ah well. Other than the memory problems, how are you?”

“Living. Keeping up with my schoolwork, having depression days, chilling with Craig’s gang and Kenny. Mostly stuff like that.” Stan shrugged. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about something, if that’d be okay?”

Wendy’s gaze brightened, and she smiled wider for some reason. “Sure, what is it?”

Stan rubbed his neck again. “Well, you know emotional stuff better, and you hear a lot of rumors around school, right? So… Would you happen to know if anything’s up with Kyle?”

“Oh.” To Stan’s confusion, Wendy sounded somewhat disappointed, though she was still smiling. “Well, I can’t tell you much, unfortunately. There’s plenty of rumors flying around my circles about what happened with you, Kyle, and Cartman, the incident that caused your amnesia. There’s also a lot of theories as to why you’re not hanging out with your usual friend group anymore. Unfortunately, I’m quite sure they’re all pretty baseless. As for Kyle specifically, most of the talk around him lately is actually kind of concerned.”

Stan’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Wendy worried her lip in her teeth. “I think it’s fairly obvious he hasn’t been handling the situation all that well. And really, please take this  _ all _ with a grain of salt, because it’s the girls and rumors and all that, but… A few of the girls have been proposing some worrying things. Jenifer is swearing up and down that Kyle’s gone completely bulimic, while Sara thinks he’s just dieting like a normal person trying to lose some weight. Then again, she also thinks it doesn’t matter because he needs to lose some weight regardless. There’s a reason nobody likes Sara.”

Stan felt a little queasy at that. “I haven’t really noticed anything, but I haven’t been near him lately. Not at least since I talked to Kenny at first and he promised to help out. Kyle made it pretty clear he doesn’t want me around at the moment.”

“Weird… But yea, it seems at least a fourth of the girls think he has or is developing some kind of eating disorder. That said, most of their ‘evidence’ tends to just be pointing out they don’t see him eat much at lunch and their intuitions. Which sure, I’ll always advocate for trusting your gut, but you can’t really go only on that, you know?” Wendy pointed out.

That idea worried the hell out of Stan, but still… “What do  _ you _ think?” he asked. Wendy was far more likely to give an accurate and level-headed assessment of her observations than any other girl in school. At least, he trusted her to do so more than the rest.

Wendy sighed. “Honestly, it’s hard to say. It could just be that he doesn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. WIthout knowing what he’s eating at home, or what’s going on overall, I don’t think you can safely come to any accurate conclusion about his diet. To me, he just seems tired and miserable, no doubt because Cartman’s probably using your absence as an opportunity to torment him more than he could before, especially since Kenny’s also been splitting his friend time between those two, Butters, and you. He was busy as it was, with his job and Karen on top of his friend group and Butters, but now it’s added one more split priority.”

Stan felt a little guilty at that. “I don’t get it… Why does Kyle still hang around Cartman if he’s such a terror? Everyone tells me to stay away from him, I don’t remember much good about him, and even Kenny didn’t have much good to say when I asked.”

Wendy pursed her lips. “Well… Why didn’t Heidi break up with Cartman ages before she did? It’s a difficult situation, I guess.”

It was a little frustrating, having something referenced that you were clearly supposed to know about, but couldn’t remember. Stan only vaguely remembered who Heidi was, probably just because she’d been pointed out to him on the first day, and he definitely didn’t remember her dating Cartman or what had happened between them. Ugh. Still, Stan got the gist of what she was implying. Toxic connections could be hard to break. “He said he couldn’t hang out with me again until I remembered something important, that I’d know what it was when I remembered… But I still don’t know what that is. Kenny talked to him about it, and he said it seemed super important but almost impossible to talk about for Kyle, so I’m just… stuck.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually, or he’ll figure out how to tell you. You two were really close, and if you’ve made it clear you still want to be, he’ll at least know you care.” Wendy smiled softly. “Some things are just… facts of life, you know? Tweek and Craig are in love to a stupid degree, Clyde’s a well-meaning moron, Butters is an angel, for the most part at least, and you and Kyle are as close knit as can be.”

“I hope you’re right. I’m regaining memories and stuff, but it’s slow. And I have no idea what it is he wants me to remember…” Stan sighed.

Wendy pat his shoulder. “I promise, if I hear any rumors that have some basis behind them, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Thanks Wendy, I really appreciate it.”

“Alright, I should get back, practice is starting soon. It was nice talking to you, though!” Wendy gave him a friendly shoulder bump before getting up and heading back down from the stands.

“You too!” Stan called after her.

As she got down the stairs, Kenny turned the corner and started coming up, raising a brow as he glanced at Wendy, then continued to take her former seat. “Hey dude, I just missed Wendy, huh?”

Stan nodded. “Yea, we were just talking about some things. I asked her about the rumors around Kyle. Apparently a lot of the girls think he’s got some kind of eating disorder, but she thinks they can’t draw solid conclusions from just seeing him at lunch.”

Kenny frowned, lips pursed as he seemed to turn it over in his mind. “... Now that I think about it, he really hasn’t been eating much at lunch lately, and he’s been giving me his leftovers a lot more often. I hadn’t really realized it before now.”

Stan grimaced. That wasn’t a good sign for sure. “Well… Hopefully it’s not that. She also says Cartman’s probably been tormenting him more because I’m not there.”

“That one is probably true,” Kenny affirmed with a sign. “I’ve tried to step in as the one getting Cartman to knock it off, but he listens to me far less than he did you. Which is to say he doesn’t listen to me at all. And I can’t cool off Kyle as well as you do, or even as well as Butters does. I’ve tried nudging him a bit more about that secret, too, but no dice yet. I can tell he’s getting annoyed with me for it, though he hasn’t told me off for it, at least. He wants to talk, he just can’t, I guess.”

“Well, thanks for trying.” Stan sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. “Any clues as to what he wants me to remember?”

“Nada. There’s like, one vague thing I think it  _ maybe _ could be, but it’s something I don’t even know for certain and if I told you, Kyle would fucking murder me, so that’s probably not it anyway.” Kenny shrugged. “It’s something he wants you to know, something he’d be okay with me telling you if he could tell me. So… Forget I said anything.”

“Okay?” Stan raised a brow, very much curious about whatever the hell Kenny was talking about.

“Sorry, I’m a little frazzled today. Bad night’s sleep,” Kenny admitted with a sigh. “I shouldn’t’ve said anything.”

“No worries. I hope you’re right about it, though.”

Both young men looked out to the field, where the football players were gathering. Tweek and Clyde joined them, but to Stan’s surprise, Craig and Token didn’t follow. Instead, they went over to the gathering of girls off to the side of the field, on the track that surrounded the football field, speaking with them before starting to stretch.

“Wait…” Stan said, brow furrowing as he sat up again. “Are Craig and Token cheerleaders?”

Kenny laughed. “Oh God, right, you don’t remember. Yea, they’re part of the cheer squad.”

“Why..?”

“Okay, okay, so- Token was dating Nichole in middle school, and she joined the cheer squad, but she was  _ super _ insecure about it, so she got Token to join too so he could support her. The problem was that  _ he _ was embarrassed too, because he’d be the only male cheerleader, so he dragged Craig into it! Craig said it was just to help out Token, but I think part of him enjoys the excuse to express himself in ways he normally can’t. They mostly do lifts and shit, but still, that’s- God, it’s such a normal thing now, I kinda forgot how weird it might look.”

Stan watched them with an amused smile. “Well, whatever works for them, I guess.”

“Yea. Plus he gets to cheer for Tweek, which I’m sure is a plus. Tweek is a wide receiver, while Clyde is a defensive lineman. They’re not half bad either. Clyde would be beaning his head on something no matter what, let’s face it. As for Tweek, he just runs really fucking fast. He’s given everyone a few heart attacks here and there, considering he looks like he’d snap like a twig, but he’s actually pretty damn durable.”

“Wow.” Stan shook his head. “Did we ever play sports?”

“Eh, a little. You played some baseball in middle school, but you got too dragged down by the increasing competitiveness and decided to bail.”

That did sound about right. “Probably wasn’t great for my depression.”

“Not at all. You did cross-country for a while too. Never seriously competed, you just enjoyed being able to run. Kept you active.” Kenny smiled that familiar, lazy grin. “You spent way more time volunteering at the animal shelter, though. Very few things help a bad brain more than smothering yourself in cats, probably. I think I might actually still have some pictures.” Kenny pulled out his phone and flicked through it. After a few moments he grinned and leaned against Stan to show him a picture.

Stan bit his lip. The photo was of himself, Kenny, and Kyle, laying side by side. There were a number of cats around them. Stan was in the middle, looking completely relaxed with the cat laying on his chest. Kenny was on his right, grinning brightly, while Kyle was on his left. Kyle almost looked as if he were sleeping. The one eye barely peeked open gave him away, though, along with a faint smile on his lips. Stan had a feeling it was when they were seventh grade. Kyle wasn’t quite as heavy as he was now, Stan still had terrible bags under his eyes, and Kenny looked far, far too thin. But they were happy.

A voice echoed in the back of Stan’s mind, and it sounded like his own.  _ “Maybe you should get a pet, Kyle. Something low-maintenance, probably. Cats aren’t too bad, usually, or hamsters. It’d be good for you, I think. It’s hard to doubt when a pet loves you. They don’t lie or pretend- except when playing dead, I guess.” _

“Does Kyle have any pets?” Stan suddenly asked.

Kenny looked at him and raised a brow. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I think I told him he should get one, at some point.” Stan wondered why. “I said something about… not being able to doubt that a pet loves you.”

“Huh…” Kenny frowned as he thought about it. “... Damnit. Without anything else, I have no fucking clue when or why you might’ve said something like that. Could be nothing at all.”

Stan sighed, watching the practices fully start from the corner of his eye. “I miss him. I don’t remember everything, but I sure as hell feel it.”

A small smile appeared on Kenny’s lips, wry and amused. “Well… You two  _ have _ always been super close. Sometimes I’ve wondered if you had some secret affair going on behind my back,” he said teasingly.

The insinuation made Stan’s face burn. “I- That’s absurd. Christ, Kenny, you’re so damn pervy sometimes.”

Kenny just laughed, nearly cackling. “Well, if you don’t remember, that could be it!”

Stan shook his head. “Yea, no, I highly doubt that.”

Even if he thought Kyle was pretty and soft and huggable, that didn’t mean Kyle felt similarly about Stan, and Stan doubted they could have had a relationship without someone picking up on it. Their parents would’ve found out, or Cartman, and it definitely would’ve been out of the bag then. Or Kenny, but at least Kenny would’ve kept it a secret, Stan knew.

Maybe Stan had tried to confess just before the accident? That sounded a bit more likely, if Kyle had rejected him or something. But Stan doubted that too. If so, wouldn’t it make more sense for Kyle to put it aside entirely and pretend it didn’t happen unless Stan remembered it himself?

“I’ll keep trying, man,” Kenny said, shaking Stan from his thoughts. “Both to get it from Kyle and to help you remember.”

Stan smiled sheepishly, realizing he’d gone silent while getting lost in his own head. “Thanks, dude. It has been fun, at least, just hanging out with you.”

“Definitely. I’m sure we’ll figure it all out soon, and we can go back to how things used to be.” Kenny reached up and squeezed Stan’s shoulder before standing. “Alright, I gotta get going. It took me longer to get here than I thought, so I should make sure I’ll be there for the end of Karen’s practice. See you later?”

“Yea, see you,” Stan replied, giving him a little wave.

As Kenny headed down the steps, Stan thought on his words. He wasn’t sure things  _ could _ go back to the way they were. It wasn’t just about his memory, it was about seeing everything from a new perspective. Even if he went back to accepting South Park as a strange place where strange things happened, that didn’t change how he felt about the people around him. Could he really go back to hanging around with Cartman, Kenny, and Kyle instead of Craig’s gang? He certainly wanted to keep spending time with Kenny, and to get Kyle back in his life, but Cartman… He really wasn’t sure. And he definitely didn’t want to just ditch Craig’s gang. Sure, he hadn’t been hanging out with them for all that long as a dedicated member of their direct social circle, but Stan really felt at ease there, and it was clear they wanted him around. At least, Token wanted him around, Clyde was always positive to have more people to talk to, and Tweek enjoyed his company. Stan honestly wasn’t too sure about Craig, but Craig was one of those guys who appeared to not really give a shit about anyone except his boyfriend and best friend. And even that second one was debatable sometimes.

_ “We should put that on the to-do list, fucking ditching Cartman. If he hasn’t changed by now, he’s never going to.” _

When had Stan said that? And to who? It had to be Kenny or Kyle, since it was the three of them who hung out with Cartman before Stan lost his memory. Was that it? Had Stan promised Kyle they’d get away from Cartman? Stan had certainly done that, but then why didn’t Kyle come with him? Why had Kyle pushed him away?

There was more to it. There had to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was... difficult. It's always hard to gauge how much should be said, how much should be kept vague, the interactions between the others, etc.  
> I think writing Kyle's viewpoint is the most difficult. Because so much of it can always be so... normal. And that's always the harshest part, for me, because it can be so normal up until it's suddenly not.  
> There should be one more chapter after this, and the the fifth will be the final scene of Part 1, so to speak. This has definitely been, and will likely continue to be, a real journey to write, and I hope reading it will be just as much of one.

“Kyle… Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Butters asked, voice soft.

Kyle sighed. Chess Club was getting pretty annoying, lately, so he’d come outside to get a breath of fresh air. But of course, Butters had noticed his absence and come looking for him. “I’m fine, Butters, just go back to club.”

Instead of taking Kyle’s word, Butters sat on the bench, folding his hands in his lap. “You know, I always like the fall here in South Park. It’s brisk, but not too cold.”

Sighing, Kyle looked at him. “Yea? What’s your point?”

Butters looked amused. “My point is that it’s nice. Unlike you, at the moment.”

“Asshole.” Kyle smiled slightly at that, crossing his arms. “You come out here just to tell me off?”

“No, I came out here because I’m worried about you. And I miss playing with you. You barely come to chess club anymore.” Butters frowned. “What’s wrong, Kyle?”

Kyle sighed. “Look, you wouldn’t get it even if I told you.”

“I might, if you gave me the chance.”

A growl of frustration escaped Kyle. Butters was a nice guy, but that was exactly why he was so fucking stupid. “Not everything can be solved with a smile and nice words, dumbass.”

“No. But they can do a lot more than you think,” Butters said simply.

Kyle’s frustration only grew. He could never understand it, how Butters could be like…  _ this _ . So damn cheery and kind and soft, despite everything in his life that should have made him even worse than Cartman. Kyle hated it. He didn’t hate Butters, but… he hated the way Butters was. It was a thin line.

Butters sighed after a few moments. “So you’re gonna be stubborn about it. Alright.”

“Please. It’s not like we’re best friends or something, Butters. I don’t even know why you hang out with me, dude,” Kyle pointed out.

“Uh… I hang out with you because we have similar interests and hobbies, and I enjoy spending time with you?” Butters looked confused. “What kind of question is that?”

“I… I just really miss Stan,” Kyle muttered. He wasn’t sure if Butters would buy that excuse, but what else could he say? Certainly not the truth.

“Why not hang out with him again, then? He still wants to be your friend, from what I’ve heard. So why don’t you let him?”

“Because it’s not the same. Because there’s so much he doesn’t know now and even if I straight up told him, which I fucking  _ can’t _ , it still wouldn’t…” Kyle sighed. “Besides, it’s better this way?”

“Better for who?”

“Him. You’ve noticed he’s doing better, haven’t you? He’s having a lot less down days than he used to. He’s eating well, he’s out and about, he’s better. Maybe him having amnesia is for the best.”

Butters frowned. “For the sake of argument, let’s say all of that is true. What about  _ you _ ?”

“What  _ about _ me?” Kyle asked, raising a brow.

“Well… don’t you deserve to be happy too?”

Kyle snorted. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m fine, Butters, lay off.”

It was painfully obvious that Butters didn’t believe him for a second. There was nothing else to be said, though. Kyle just wanted to drop the subject entirely.

But he didn’t. “Look, if Stan gets his memory back, things can go back to normal. But until then, it’s not happening,” he said.

Butters smiled at that, at least. “Ah, okay. Well, at least you’re not bailing on him entirely. That’s what I thought was going on.”

“Of course not, don’t be a dumbass, Butters.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Kyle.”

“Too late.”

They both broke off into snickers. Then Butters stood, stretching a bit. “Alright, I’m gonna get back to the club. You coming?”

“Nah, I think I’m gonna head home,” Kyle said, standing as well. “I’ve got a lot of homework to do.”

Butters looked somewhat disappointed. “Ah, alright. I’ll see you later, then.”

Watching Butters head back into the school, Kyle wondered what he was thinking at that point. Part of Kyle just wanted to quit Chess Club entirely, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the annoying people in it anymore. He and Butters could still play if Kyle felt up to it, but… He probably wouldn’t. It just wasn’t much fun, not anymore. A lot of things weren’t all that fun anymore.

Kyle shifted his backpack to fit more comfortably on his shoulders and started down the sidewalk towards his car. He half considered walking home, but he was tired and his mom would probably get annoyed with him anyways. Not to mention it’d probably get his car towed or something. Ugh.

Kyle didn’t really want to go home, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be. And he really did need to get his homework done, as unappealing as that was.

Maybe… Maybe he could try anyways. Just doing homework together might be fine, right? And Stan always had trouble when it started piling up. And maybe Kyle could figure out a way to remind him. And even if he couldn’t, it could maybe make it clear to Stan that Kyle really did want him around.

Yea. He would do it, he had to, he needed…

Kyle needed his best friend back.

* * *

Stan quickly bounded down the stairs as he heard someone knocking at the door, flinging it open with a grin. “Hey, you made it!”

Token smiled back at him. “Yea, finally convinced my dad. Any of the others here yet?”

“Clyde’s already upstairs. Tweek and Craig bailed, though,” Stan replied with a chuckle.

“Oh wow, I wonder why,” Token replied dryly.

Stan was about to reply when he spotted a car pulling into the driveway next door, and he paused in his distraction. Kyle stepped out of the car and grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat. He looked like he was about to head towards Stan’s house, but his eyes landed on Token. Token, having spotted him as well, waved. Kyle grasped the straps of his backpack tightly.

“Hey!” Stan called.

After a moment’s hesitation, Kyle headed over. “Hey.”

Token glanced at Stan with a small grin before turning to Kyle. “Still got homework to do?” he asked.

Kyle raised a brow. “Sure, why?”

Stan jumped on it. “We’re having a study sleepover! You should join us! Well, you don’t have to sleep over, but we can do our homework together.”

Kyle glanced between Token and Stan for a moment. “The three of us?”

“Clyde too,” Token added. “Apparently Tweek and Craig didn’t come. No prize for guessing why.”

Kyle looked conflicted for a few moments before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already got a headache, I don’t wanna deal with Clyde…”

“Ouch. Well… Okay then.” Token rubbed his neck, looking awkward.

Kyle gave them an awkward nod before turning and heading back to the house. Stan winced at the sound of the Broflovskis’ front door slamming shut. Then he sighed. “C’mon, Clyde’s gonna start wondering where we’re at.”

“Yea. Sorry man, I thought he looked like he wanted to join,” Token said as he followed Stan inside.

“I thought so too.”

Clyde looked up from his books as Stan returned to the room. “Hey Token! Ready for- Uh… What happened?”

“Saw Kyle. Invited him over, but he seemed pretty against it, so Stan’s bummed,” Token explained.

“Ah… I get it. That sucks, dude. Didn’t you guys do stuff like this like… all the time?” Clyde asked Stan.

“I think. It seems pretty familiar. That’s why I wanted to do this in the first place.”

Clyde smiled, clearly trying to be reassuring. “Well, it’ll still be fun!”

“I don’t know what you’re so excited about, it’s just homework,” Token said with a chuckle as he sat down with Clyde on Stan’s bedroom floor.

“Study  _ and _ sleepover, dude, we never do this stuff,” Clyde pointed out.

“The study part usually falls through, to be fair. Either Tweek and Craig get distracted or you get bored.”

Stan chuckled a little at their discussion and moved to his closet, tugging out the chess sweatshirt and yanking it on. It felt a little better to be able to wear it, at least, as if he had some part of Kyle with him despite the metaphorical distance Kyle was putting between them. “Think we’ll be able to keep him focused with the two of us?” he asked Token as he joined them on the floor.

Both Token and Clyde looked at him in surprise. “Where the fuck did you get that?” Clyde asked.

Stan shrugged. “Found it in my packed boxes. Mom says it’s probably Kyle’s but he hasn’t asked for it back, so I guess he’s not missing it.” He tugged the sleeves up so he could use his hands before grabbing his books from his bag.

“... I’m starting to wonder if Clyde’s secret lovers theory might actually be right,” Token said with an incredulous chuckle.

Stan flushed red and shook his head. “Seriously? I doubt it. Whatever it is that happened, it started a long time ago… Kyle told Kenny it was in our freshman year. I doubt we’d’ve been able to keep a relationship secret from even our closest friends and family that long.”

Clyde rubbed his neck. “I dunno man, I mean… People always kinda figured you two might end up together? If you were into guys, at least. And considering how you reacted to him on the first day of school, I’d say there’s a chance. You’re definitely into him.”

Pursing his lips, Token seemed to turn it over in his mind. “I  _ do _ agree it’s unlikely something like that would have stayed hidden for three years. But… That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s impossible, but it also might mean that wasn’t the important thing he needs you to remember, even if you were together. Which of course begs the question of what that secret  _ would _ be, something even more important than a potential relationship.”

“I dunno, guys. I keep getting like… flashes of things, here and there. It just kinda feels like I’ve been told I need to put together this thousand-piece puzzle, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to look like, and all the pieces are blank at first, only getting their color back at random.” Stan shifted, feeling the fabric of the sweatshirt pooling around him. He and Kyle were the same height, but it was kind of huge on him due to how much thinner he was. It was kind of nice.

“I don’t envy you. Damn, there’s gotta be  _ something _ that can jog your memory…” Token said, clearly wracking his own brain trying to think of something.

“It’d help if we had some sort of hint, some place to start, but all I’ve got is a potential time frame,” Stan said. “I’ve looked through all my stuff already- old pictures, mostly, but any memories connected to them haven’t been all that helpful so far. Kenny said he’ll tell me if he figures out anything, or if Kyle manages to tell him what the hell it is. Apparently it’s really not easy for Kyle to talk about, like, at all.”

Token closed his eyes. “So… It’s a secret important enough that you not remembering changes the dynamic of your friendship irrevocably. It’s something that you found out about three years ago, but absolutely no one else knows, not even Kenny or your parents. It’s  _ only _ between you and Kyle.”

Clyde rubbed his neck. “I’ve got no fucking clue, man. Maybe he’s a vampire?”

Stan snorted, caught off guard. “What?” Token had opened his eyes as well, looking halfway between incredulous and amused.

“What? It’s possible! I mean, if they exist and stuff. Maybe he got turned into a vampire three years ago, and you were the only one who knew! It could even explain why he looks like he hasn’t been eating well, ‘cause he hasn’t been able to drink your blood!” Clyde excitedly explained.

Neither of the other two young men were able to help their laughter as Clyde finished. Token was able to regain his breath a bit faster, presumably more used to his friend’s antics. “Okay, okay, besides the obvious… If Kyle was a vampire, how the hell has he been eating pizza all these years? You’ve seen him at birthday parties and stuff, dude, and that shit’s  _ coated _ in garlic.”

Clyde opened his mouth as if to retort, but then he deflated. “I didn’t think of that. Well I dunno, then!”

Stan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Dude, that is… Wow.”

“Shut up. You’re looking for answers, I gave you an idea!”

“Clyde, you are one of my best friends on this planet, but you are a moron sometimes,” Token said with the utmost affection in his voice.

Stan shook his head. “I appreciate the laugh, at least. I think I needed that.”

“Ah, whatever. We’re starting with history, right? All this government structure stuff. I made flash cards, since it’s all memorization bullshit,” Clyde said, pulling a small note card container from his bag.

Token shot him a surprised look. “You already made note cards? You’re never ahead on school stuff.”

Clyde grinned sheepishly. “I accidentally skipped a chapter last week and did this week’s work, at least partially.”

“Ah, that makes more sense,” Token snickered.

Stan shook his head with a small smile and wondered just what had been stopping him from hanging out with these guys before, besides the whole Cartman thing. They were pretty cool. Token was smart, helpful, and level headed, while Clyde was fun, energetic, and confident.

But Kyle’s hoodie hung loose and warm around him, and Stan was filled with a deep sense of longing. These two had been close friends for a long time, and even had Stan not lost his memory, he’d likely still be on the outside of their little group. He just didn’t feel quite as home with them as he felt with Kenny, as he must have felt with Kyle. He couldn't hold it against them, but it still ached fiercely within him.

He wondered if Kyle felt the same way when he thought of Stan. Most of Stan hated the idea of Kyle hurting like he was, likely worse due to the memories that Stan was missing, but a small, frustrated part of him hoped that Kyle  _ was _ aching. If nothing else, it might compel him to actually tell Stan the truth.

* * *

" _ God _ , Kahl, you’re such a drag lately. I dunno why you’re acting all butthurt about Stan,  _ you’re _ the one who wanted him to hang out with Craig’s homo-squad,” Eric huffed.

“Dude, just… shut up already. I’m too tired for this bullshit today.” As if to punctuate his point, Kyle yawned.

Kenny was starting to get  _ really _ worried.

They’d been back in school for about a month and a half now, and Kyle was seeming worse by the day. Kenny knew what hunger looked like, and Kyle was displaying the signs more and more as time went on. His clothes had gotten looser, and he was shivering near-constantly, not to mention he was exhausted every time Kenny saw him. He was often distracted as well, staring off into space if something wasn’t actively keeping his attention, and frequently dissociating when something that had his attention went on too long.

“Aw, let up, Cartman,” Butters chimed in. “Schools and clubs and sports have got everyone busy right now. We’re in our final year, we gotta make it all count!”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Yea right. He’s just whiny ‘cause his boyfriend’s not hanging out with us anymore, which was his own fucking decision.”

Kenny rolled his eyes and pointed out what was the most obvious to him. “The only one whining here is you, dude. Kyle’s just being quiet. I’d say we all could use some peace and quiet for now.”

“Ugh, whatever. There’s no point in hanging out if you’re all gonna be boring bookworms. I didn’t realize not having Stan around would make you all such a drag. Screw you guys, I’m going home.”

As Cartman stalked off, Butters cast a worried glance at Kenny, and Kenny suspected he had much the same concerns about their third friend. Butters stepped closer to Kyle, fingers tentatively brushing his shoulder. “Kyle? Are you feeling alright?”

Kyle jumped slightly, looking up in surprise. “Why do you keep asking me that? I’ve told you, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You just… You really don’t look well, buddy. More than tired,” Butters said delicately.

Kenny decided to jump in. If Butters had been trying and failing on his own, maybe having two friends voice their concerns would work. “Yea dude, you don’t look like you’ve been sleeping  _ or _ eating for shit.”

Kyle glanced away, and Kenny could swear he saw a flicker of guilt there. “I’m alright, guys, I just don’t have as much of an appetite lately. You know how it is, stress and all that.”

“Dude, this is beyond stress,” Kenny protested. “We’re not even at the hard part of the year. This is about Stan, or it’s connected to him, or the accident, or your secret, or  _ something _ .”

“I-I don’t wanna tell you how to live your life, Kyle, but it’s worrying. The Chess Club’s about ready to kick you off the roster for missing so many meetings. The only reason it hasn’t happened yet is ‘cause you’re a senior,” Butters said.

“Wait, what?” This was the first Kenny was hearing of it. “Dude, I thought you loved Chess Club, what happened?”

Kyle gripped the straps of his backpack, a growl of frustration escaping him. “Focus on yourself, asshole, it’s none of your business and I’d think you have better things to worry about than whether or not I’m going to some stupid afterschool club. That goes for both of you, actually. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m just not fucking interested anymore?”

“Sure, but…” Butters’ frown only deepened.

A tense silence fell between them all. It felt like everything was just getting worse, and Kenny had no idea how to fix it. It was clear Butters didn’t know either. It wasn’t a good sign for any of them. At least Stan was doing well, Kenny knew. That was pretty much his only solace in this damnable situation.

“Well… What about the football game? First home game is this weekend,” Kenny pointed out. They’d never missed one before unless one of them was sick enough to be bedridden.

Kyle perked up a little at that, but it faded just as quickly as it came. “I dunno. Being squished in with everyone just sounds kind of… much, right now.”

“Wait, we won’t have to be squished! I got Jimmy to slip me some tickets for the good seats at the top of the stands!”

“Oh shit, really? The actual seat seats, not the bleachers?” Kyle asked, brightening up again.

“Yea!”

Kyle tilted his head a little before glancing at Kenny. “Are you gonna..?”

It was a relief to see Kyle’s mood pick up a little. Kenny grinned at him. “Of course, dude, I’ll be there. I have first shift at the snack bar, then once halftime is over, I’ll be able to join you in the seats. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

“... Alright, sure, I guess,” Kyle replied with a faint smile.

Butters let out a little cheer. “It’s gonna be great! I’ll make sure to bring snacks so we don’t have to go down to the concessions so much.”

“And I’ll bring some after I finish my shift,” Kenny added. He was definitely getting worried about Kyle’s eating habits, so any excuse to feed him would be good. Kenny suddenly wondered if this was how his friends usually felt about him. Weird.

“Guess I’ll bring some stuff too. My mom would probably make something if I asked, or I can just buy some shit…” Kyle rubbed his neck. “I better let her know now so she can decide and get stuff if she wants.”

“Alright, see you later, Kyle!” Butters gave him a little wave.

“Later, dude.” Kenny gave him a lazy salute.

Kyle looked faintly amused at that and waved to them both before setting off. Kenny could see Butters’ smile fade from the corner of his eye. They waited, watching Kyle leave, and as soon as he disappeared around the distant corner, Butters wrapped his arms around himself.

“Something’s really wrong, Ken…”

Kenny nodded. “Definitely. It’s pretty obvious he’s not eating right.”

“I suspected, but I wasn’t too sure. And with Chess Club… It’s not just him not showing up. Even when he’s there, he doesn’t help teach strategies and stuff anymore, or even use them when he plays. I’m not too good, but people still play against me ‘cause I do weird stuff and I don’t know all the usual tactics, but Kyle just… Even when he plays, he doesn’t play well. I’m one of the only people that’ll play him lately ‘cause of it,” Butters explained.

“Damn. That bad, huh?” Kenny had no idea what to do, and he hated it. “Feels like he hasn’t been doing great since the accident, but especially lately, he just keeps… As time goes on he’s diving harder, y’know?”

Butters sighed. “I wish Stan could get his memory back… He’d know what to do.”

Kenny wished for that too. What would Stan do, he asked himself, how would he be handling this situation? His absence was the problem in the first place, but maybe some of his same tactics might help. A thought occurred to Kenny. “Oh, I have an idea! Timmy still owes you a solid, doesn’t he? You think he’d let us come over after the game Friday and use his entertainment set-up?”

“I dunno, but I sure can ask!” Butters replied brightly, clearly picking up on Kenny’s line of thought. “We could invite Ike too! He’d totally be able to convince Kyle to come.”

“Eh, let’s keep that in our back pocket. If we do it right out, he’ll probably get wise to whatever he feels we’re trying to do.” Kenny loved Kyle as a brother, but he knew just how petulant Kyle could get seemingly for the sake of it.

“Okay, I’ll ask Timmy about in a bit, then. You’ll put together a list of movies and games for us, right? I think you know his taste and what’ll get his mind off things a little better.”

Kenny nodded, a new determination filling him. “Yea, I’ve got it covered. Stan’s not his only friend, dammit. I’m not waiting around for Stan to remember whatever the hell Kyle wants from him, we can handle this ourselves.”

“Yea!” Butters cheered, looking just as resolute. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can help him make it right again. We just gotta pry it outta him!”

Kenny grinned and held a fist out. Damn he loved this guy. He really needed to ask Butters out once things calmed down a bit. “Blondie tag tam, alright,” he said with a snicker.

Butters laughed, but fistbumped him anyway.

* * *

“Hey Kyle, you wanna go to the game this weekend?” Ike asked.

Kyle raised a brow, looking up from his book. “Uh… I already have plans to go with my friends? Like always?”

“I wasn’t sure since you’ve spent all that time moping and being a huge baby because Stan’s not hanging around you, you might’ve bailed on your other friends too,” Ike jabbed.

Kyle groaned and rolled his eyes. Not this shit again. “What is with you, lately?”

“What’s with me? What’s with  _ you?! _ I’m not fucking blind, Kyle, things aren’t okay!” Ike put his controller down, sitting up fully in his bean bag chair.

Kyle sat up in his own bean bag. It had been a long time since he’d seen Ike this legitimately upset. “You’re really too worked up about this, Ike.”

Ike crossed his arms, not so easily shaken. “Why don’t you just go hang out with him again if it really matters  _ that _ much? You’re acting all miserable.”

“Look, Ike, I’m just… Senior year is really stressful, okay? And losing my best friend on top of it isn’t helping. You’re the gifted kid, you don’t really get the same kind of school struggles.” Kyle sighed.

“I guess not.” Ike’s shoulders slumped a little as he looked down. “... It’s just kinda frustrating, because I don’t…”

“... You don’t what?” Kyle asked.

“If you’re having friend troubles, what chance do I have?” Ike asked, rubbing his neck. “I do school work easier, but friendships, not so much. I mean, that’s not all it is, but that’s part of it.”

“Oh…” Kyle shifted a bit awkwardly. “Y’know… I’m not that great at those either. I mostly still have my friends because they grew up with me. They kinda have to hang out with me. Like with Cartman.”

“Guess we’re in the same boat there, then. I’m starting to really feel like Filmore hates me, though. And Filmore’s kinda the most popular guy in the class, so…”

“Who gives a shit if Filmore likes you? Filmore’s always been a little douche.”

“Sure, but he’s kinda influential. If he doesn’t like me, a  _ lot _ of the class follows,” Ike pointed out.

“Ah, right…” Kyle rubbed his neck. “Well… You could always hang with that goth kid. They’d probably appreciate the whole ‘no one likes you’ thing.”

“You’re saying I  _ should _ hang out with the goths?” Ike asked with a grin.

Kyle chuckled. “More that they’re a last resort, but sure.”

“Firkle actually stopped smoking a little while ago, so it wouldn’t be insufferable to be around him at least.” Ike chuckled softly. “I dunno, I guess I’m just… I’m always gonna be the weird one. If I try to hang out with people my age, I’m outside ‘cause I’m in the later grades, but in my own grade, I’m younger than everyone, so it’s… Yea.” Ike shrugged.

“Yea, that’s gotta be rough. Glad I never had to deal with that, at least. But… I’m sure you’ll be fine. You have more charisma than you think. If all else fails, try Butters. He’s super friendly and stuff.”

“I’d rather not mooch off your friends, I feel lame enough. You never did answer me though, about Stan,” Ike pointed out.

Kyle sighed and leaned back on the beanbag. “It’s… He’s better off where he is, Ike. I’m kind of realizing that I’ve been making his life worse all this time.”

“What?” Ike frowned. “That’s bullshit.”

“I have. He’s a lot more relaxed, a lot happier, even if he’s not happy about me pushing him away… He’ll get over that. And let’s face it, Craig’s gang doesn’t like me.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

Kyle shrugged. “They just don’t. In case you haven’t noticed, most people in town don’t like our little group. Probably because of all the trouble we stirred up when we were your age. It’s fine, though. Butters is still putting up with me, because he’s got the patience of a fucking saint I guess. Kenny’s so laid back he really doesn’t give a shit. And let’s face it, Cartman will never get rid of me because as much as he acts like he hates me, he wants me around so he has someone to pick on.”

Ike frowned, looking worried. “That… doesn’t really sound like a good thing, if you ask me.”

Another shrug. “It’s just how we are. Some friends are like that. C’mon, let’s get back to the game. You can tag along to the football game with me if you want, you can probably mooch Kenny’s seat while he’s working.”

“Nah, I don’t really care about going. I just know you always love going, even if you get sick from the concession stand food,” Ike said quietly.

“Thanks, Ike,” Kyle reached over and ruffled his little brother’s hair. “but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m the big brother, remember? I worry over you.”

It was painfully obvious from his expression that Ike’s concern hadn’t abated fully, but he still smiled genuinely when he picked up his controller again. “Alright, dude. C’mon, let’s beat this damn boss already.”

* * *

Stan couldn’t help but laugh at seeing Token and Craig in their cheer uniforms. “I dunno what I was expecting, but… You look good at least?”

“What, thought you were going to see me in a skirt,” Craig said more than asked, flipping Stan the bird.

“Nah, I’m sure Tweek’s the only one with that privilege,” Stan teased.

Token chuckled as he tied his dreads back, then walked over to where Craig and Stan were bickering. “I’m sure Tweek would enjoy that, but I’m also pretty sure Craig would rather die.”

“Fuck off, both of you,” Craig grumbled before stalking off to do his stretches.

Rolling his eyes, Token turned to Stan. “Are you sure you’ll be okay in the stands by yourself?”

“Yes  _ mom _ , don’t worry so much. I’m amnesiac, not helpless,” Stan replied, sticking out his tongue.

“I just know the stands can get really rowdy, and crowds are a lot to handle, sometimes,” Token replied.

“If it gets too much for me, I’ll bail, no big deal. I can always catch the game on the radio, or hear about it from you guys afterward.” Stan shrugged. “Are Tweek and Clyde nervous about the game?”

Token nodded. “It wasn’t as big a deal before, but now, well, they’re seniors. They have to do their best to hopefully catch the eye of some college recruiters. Clyde really wants to go pro if he can, and Tweek could use the scholarship money, considering how rocky his relationship with his parents has gotten.”

Stan grimaced. “Eesh, I bet. Well, I’m gonna go grab my seat.”

“Sure thing. Oh, if you do need to go, come get the van keys from me or something. You can use it as a quiet spot instead of trying to walk home or whatever,” Token told him.

Nodding, Stan gave him a little wave. “Sounds like a plan. See you later!”

Stan bounced up the steps, keeping a tight hold on the strap of his messenger bag. The seats up near the top of the stands were special, not metal benches like the rest of the bleachers, and you had to have actual tickets to use them. Or, well, you were supposed to; No one actually checked unless there was a problem, but most people didn’t seem to want the hassle of getting kicked out of the seats if they didn’t have a ticket, so it worked well enough. Stan had gotten one from Clyde, since apparently his dad couldn’t make it to this game. Up top, there’d be a fantastic view of the entire field.

People were still filtering in, but the stands were almost full, and the game was bound to start soon. Stan couldn’t wait to see how well Clyde and Tweek played. As he sat down, he recognized some of the students and other people sitting around him and waved back when they greeted him. There was a positive buzz in the air, and it felt good to get swept up in it. He knew he had to have done this plenty over the years, but it was still like he was experiencing it all for the first time again.

As he looked around again, he spotted a couple more familiar faces- Butters and Kyle, sitting in two of the seats a row up and a short ways off from his place. They didn’t seem to have noticed him, and Kyle was facing away from Stan to talk to Butters, but Stan could recognize that curly red mess anywhere. Stan’s chest tightened and he turned away to face the field again.

No matter how desperately he wanted to try talking to Kyle again, it was probably better not to bother him about their shared secrets at the moment. They were all here to have fun, after all, and Stan didn’t want to drag him down by reminding him of bad things. Thankfully, the game soon started, and the energy and excitement swept through the crowd. Stan primarily kept an eye out for his friends, wanting to cheer for them first and foremost.

It was a bit more difficult to find Clyde on the field, considering he was within the muddled mass that was the defensive line. Stan wasn’t even entirely sure he was up at all, but he enjoyed watching nonetheless. Tweek, on the other hand, was much easier to spot, and being on the opposite ends of offensive and defensive roles meant he didn’t have to try to look for both of them. Stan was amazed at how fast Tweek could run, though he had to wince whenever the guy got hit. He looked so skinny and frail, even more so from a distance, but apparently Kenny was right in saying Tweek was more durable than he looked. He just hopped right back up when he went down.

Stan jumped up and cheered as they finally scored the first points of the game near the end of the first half, along with the rest of the crowd, clapping as the teams left the field for the moment. He was a little hopped up on all the excitement, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to head down and walk the track to look around a little more. HIs seat wasn’t going anywhere, after all, and maybe he could catch a word with Tweek or Clyde. He jogged down the steps and headed to the barrier that kept the crowd away from the field.

It took him a few moments to find one of them. Tweek was sitting on one of the benches, chugging something from a water bottle, so Stan waved to him. “Hey, Tweek! Nice going out there!” Stan called.

Tweek looked back in surprise, then smiled and walked over to him. “Hey! Enjoying the game?”

“Yea, dude! I dunno how the hell Craig watches you, though, I’m half afraid you’ll break something every time someone tackles you,” Stan said, leaning on the barrier.

Tweek laughed. “He was worried too, back when I first started. It took me actually breaking my leg doing something completely different for him to realize I was fine playing football.”

“Wow, how the hell did you break your leg?” Stan asked.

“Well, it started when they were building that shit little skatepark in North Park…”

* * *

Kyle could see a lot from up in the stands. It was nice, being so high up and in the flow of the crowd’s positive energy. By halftime, however, something more pressing had come up.

He bumped Butters’ shoulder slightly with his own. “I gotta hit the can, dude, be right back.”

“Alrighty!”

Kyle stood and carefully made his way down the stairs, feeling a little shaky. It was a constant companion of his, nowadays, but he managed just fine. That was just the sort of thing that happened when you didn’t tend to eat well.

He knew Kenny and Butters were up to something. He wasn’t sure what, yet, but he knew he hadn’t done a very good job of convincing them that he was okay. Not that he could blame them. Kyle knew damn well he was crashing hard, and hiding it was just getting more and more difficult. If he knew how to pull up from the spiral, he would, but as it was in the moment…

When Kyle got to the bottom of the steps, he spotted something he immediately wished he hadn’t. Stan was leaning on the barrier railing, chatting and laughing with Tweek, and it made Kyle feel even sicker than he already dealt with on a consistent basis these days.

It hurt, seeing Stan with Craig and his friends, even if Kyle knew it was better for Stan not to be around Kyle and Cartman. He always seemed like he was having fun, even on the days where it was clear his depression was really dragging him down. It made Kyle wonder if, for all these years, he’d just been holding Stan back.

Tweek got called away by his coach to get back to the team and waved to Stan as he went. Stan grinned at him and most likely wished him good luck before turning around. His eyes, by chance, met Kyle’s, and he seemed surprised.

Kyle turned sharply and walked down the track, heading toward the bathrooms. He walked as quickly as he could without running and immediately shut himself into a blessedly empty stall, leaning his head against the cool metal of the door.

He was being ridiculous. This was the bed he’d made, now he had to lie in it. He pushed off the door and focused on what he’d come here for in the first place. He used the toilet, taking his time, before moving out to wash his hands thoroughly. When he stepped outside, however, he spotted Stan leaning against the wall nearby, and realized Stan must’ve been waiting for him to come out.

Stan’s eyes widened as Kyle came out and he stood up straight, stepping over to him. “Kyle! Hey, are you okay?”

Kyle’s brow furrowed, and for a moment he debated simply walking away and ignoring Stan, but… “I’m fine? I just had to use the bathroom. Is that unusual or something?”

“N-No, of course not, you just… You seemed kinda upset, back there.” Stan folded his arms over his chest. “You’re looking kinda rough, dude.”

“Thanks,” Kyle drawled, a spark of annoyance running through him. “What, lonely because your new friends are too busy with their sports?”

“Hey! You’re the one who told me to fuck off, dude, you don’t get to pull that shit,” Stan bit, brow furrowing. Despite his words, though, he still looked more concerned than angry.

Kyle winced guiltily and wanted to kick himself. “No, you’re right. Sorry. I’m just… not feeling great,” he confessed. “I’ll be fine, though, promise.”

“If you say so…” Stan shuffled his feet. “Why… Why don’t we walk around the track a little, together? I know I haven’t remembered whatever it is you need me to yet, but we could still just hang out some, couldn’t we?”

Kyle sighed through his nose, glancing away. He hated when Stan made those damn puppy dog eyes, especially considering Stan likely wasn’t even trying to do it. He always had such a way of worming under Kyle’s skin. “We can walk back to the stands, at least. I don’t have a lot in me tonight.”

“Okay!” Stan jumped on it, grinning brightly

He fell into step beside Kyle as Kyle turned to walk back. Kyle could feel the weight of their past between them, making it difficult to even look at Stan. But maybe… Maybe he should just say it. Rip the bandage off, tell Stan what he needed, and pray it didn’t backfire on him. “Hey Stan?” he said, turning his head as the approached the stairs to the stands.

“Yea?” Stan looked at him, smiling.

“I wanna-”

Whatever Kyle might’ve said next was cut off with a yelp as he tripped. He threw his hands out to catch himself and hissed in pain as he felt the rough concrete tear into his skin.

“Kyle! Are you okay?” Stan quickly crouched down, helping Kyle stand back up.

Kyle held his hands close to his chest, wincingin as he caught a glimpse of the torn skin and quickly running blood. “Shit…”

“Ah, here, I’ve got a first aid kit, let’s go over here.” Stan guided him away from the stands again, to the wall surrounding the stadium, and helped him sit down against it.

Kyle held his hands out and turned his head away, nausea quickly filling him. “Just what I fucking needed…” he grumbled, tears brimming to the corners of his eyes as he felt Stan take his hands and start to tend to them.

“Mm… They’re not too fucked up, it just looks worse because it’s a wide area. This’ll hurt a little, though, I gotta get these patches away and clean it up,” Stan explained.

Kyle bit down a whine as he felt Stan start to pull the debri away from his wound. Still, a sense of hope filled him. “Where did you learn that?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Huh? Oh, Craig’s been teaching about first aid. I’m glad he did, I’d rather not have to find a first-aid station with this damn crowd.”

Just as quickly as it came, the hope dissipated, leaving unfair jealousy and heartache to replace it. “Ah. Gotcha.”

There were a few moments of quiet between them before Stan spoke again. “... I’m sure they’d let you come hang out with us, if you wanted. It could be fun,” he suggested.

“I don’t have a place there, dude,” Kyle replied, resignation filling him. “It’s fine.”

Stan sighed in exasperation. “Did  _ I _ , before the accident? I don’t get it, man. What the hell could be so important for me to know that our friendship rides on it, but you can’t tell me. At least give me a hint, or something, please!”

Kyle sighed and drew in on himself, as much as he could without pulling his hands away. He wanted nothing more than to tell him, to fix things, but… He couldn’t. “Look, I… When I said that, I didn’t realize…” He had to blink back tears, trying to keep himself steady. “You’re a lot happier, a lot better off with them. So forget about it, alright?”

Stan finally let go of Kyle’s hands, and Kyle pulled them close to his chest, looking at the bandaging. It was neat and firm, and he could see the blood seeping through, like…

“What, like everything else?” Stan bit, jolting Kyle from his thoughts. “Come on, man, I’m trying here, why can’t you just work with me? Do you always just abandon your friends when they’re not the way you want them anymore?”

The accusation was a pike of pure ice through Kyle’s chest. He let it chill him to the bone and leech all the warmth from him, chasing away what they’d had before. “Yes.” He carefully pulled himself to his feet, turning away. “Thanks for the help, but we’re both better off this way. I don’t need your stars anymore, so don’t bother.”

“Fine!” Stan growled out, hopping to his feet as well. “I hear you loud and clear, Kyle. Fuck you.” He turned and stalked away, clearly upset.

Kyle didn’t look back. Instead, he headed for the exit of the stadium, trying to hold himself in until he was clear of the crowds and noise and Stan’s anger burning into his back. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but what he’d said was the truth; Stan was better off with Craig and those guys, and Kyle couldn’t hold him back anymore.

So he walked. He didn’t exactly feel like watching the game after that. He walked and walked and walked, until his feet ached and his arms trembled from the cold and he felt woozy from the exertion.

Kyle looked down at his hands. The blood had stopped spreading, drying into dark splotches, and he wished, more than anything, he could have what they had back then. Part of him wanted to rip the bandages off and tear the wounds open again, but he restrained himself for now.

Instead, he tugged out his phone and texted Butters.  _ ‘Heading home dont wait for me’ _

Kyle did feel a little bad for bailing on them. It seemed like he was letting all his friends down these days, but this was probably better too- they could have some quality time together, after all, and perhaps Kenny could finally make a move already.

When his phone rang, Kyle didn’t answer it. Instead, he turned it off entirely and continued to walk. He already told them where he was going, he didn’t want to deal with questions as to why. They could have plenty of fun without him.

* * *

Stan stalked over to where the cheerleaders were taking a break, and Token spotted him, jogging over to meet him halfway. “Stan? Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

It wasn’t too surprising that his upset was obvious, but Stan was a bit beyond caring at that point. “Look, can I just borrow your keys? I want to go lay in the back seat of the van for a bit.”

Looking hesitant, Token nodded and fished the keys from his pocket. “Alright, here. Just make sure to lock the doors after you get inside, just in case.”

“I will, thanks.” Stan quickly strode away after taking the keys.

Stan’s mind was a flurry of frustration, confusion, and misery. He had been, at least, holding onto the hope that he would remember what Kyle wanted him to, or that maybe Kyle would tell him what it was, or put it aside entirely, but now, Kyle had effectively said that their friendship was over in its entirety. Better off his ass, Kyle was just being a humongous douche.

Stan unlocked the van and hopped into the back, slamming the door shut and locking it. Then he sprawled out as best he could on the very back seats, throwing an arm over his eyes.

It hurt, more than anything else. Little by little, his memory returned, and so much of his life, so much of his time, had been filled with  _ Kyle. _

They used to come to these games together, he recalled, sometimes with Kenny or Cartman or both, and sometimes it would be just the two of them. They would cheer on their friends and classmates, and Kyle would call out things that most definitely weren’t football plays or even football terms, and grin eerie time Stan cracked up laughing. They’d eat a fuckton of shitty nachos and corndogs and soda, and sometimes Kyle would throw up afterwards while Stan held back his hair.

Stan guessed he was just better at handling greasy foods than Kyle was.

Curling onto his side, Stan pressed his palms against his eyes. Had Kyle just been this much of a jerk all along? Sure, they were always kind of assholes, but this… This wasn’t fun. Stan just wanted his best friend back.

He hadn’t even noticed he’d dozed off until someone knocked sharply on the door. He scrambled up in his seat and saw the guys outside, hastily unlocking the door for them.

“Sorry,” he muttered out as he handed the keys back to Token and everyone piled in. “Kinda fell asleep. Did I really miss the rest of the game..?”

Clyde shrugged. “We lost in the second half, you didn’t miss a ton. Are… you okay?”

“Not really,” Stan admitted, rubbing his neck as everyone looked back at him. “I talked to Kyle. He looked upset, and I just wanted… But he fell and scraped his hands up, and we talked while I patched him up, and he told me to forget about the whole thing. He said I was better off with you guys and shit.”

The group glanced at one another, confusion and shock evident in their faces, before Craig spoke. “Something’s not right.”

“It’s gotta be Cartman,” Tweek agreed, “He’s fucking up Kyle over this somehow, I’d bet you dollars to donuts on it. He’s using the opportunity of the others getting Stan out of the group to fuck Kyle up, I know it.”

Token sighed. “Usually I say you’re a bit quick to jump on Cartman, but honestly, I can’t think of what else it might be.”

“He’s got a big grudge,” Clyde explained when Stan shot them a confused look. “Cartman tried to get pics of him and Craig making out to sell at one point in middle school.”

“Wow. Seriously, why the fuck did I hang around him.” Stan groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “So what do we do, if that really is what’s going on?” He felt a little bad for yelling at Kyle now, if their theory was true.

“We need to find out what he’s using to get to Kyle, if that’s the case. Then we can figure out how to fix it. It might have to do with whatever Kyle wanted you to remember,” Clyde replied.

“If only I could figure out what that was…” Stan sighed, then paused as he remembered something. “He said something kinda weird right before we parted, it was… He said he didn’t need my stars anymore.”

Craig raised a brow. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I wish I knew. I think…” Stan put his chin in his hands, racking his brain. It was familiar, but why? “It was something to do with bandages, something I’d do when helping him… Something that’d make him feel better.”

Token smiled sympathetically. “Your memory’s coming back, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, though… I’m worried about him. I’ve heard a lot of things going around. A lot of people seem to agree that he doesn’t look well, and Cartman… he’s capable of some pretty terrible shit, even towards his friends. Especially towards Kyle, really.”

Tweek growled under his breath. “I swear, if Cartman’s done something to get to Kyle  _ this _ bad-”

“Easy, honey, you don’t need to get arrested  _ now _ ,” Craig drawled, placing his hand on Tweek’s thigh.

Tweek huffed and slumped back in his seat. “Well. If it comes down to it, I’m not holding back against that jackass. He deserves it.”

“Remind me not to piss you off,” Stan said, unable to stifle a chuckle.

“He’s not normally one to hold a grudge, but Cartman brings out the worst in everyone,” Clyde said as everyone began to buckle in.

Stan shook his head and followed suit as Token started up the van. Still, Kyle’s words rang in the back of his mind. What if they were wrong, and Kyle really was just breaking things off with Stan? What if Kyle was right and things really were better this way, for both of them? What if Stan was the one being pushy, trying to shove himself back into Kyle’s life?

Maybe, even once Stan got all of his memory back, Kyle just didn’t want things to go back to how they were before.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyle stood at the front door, hesitating as he heard laughter from within. It sounded like they were celebrating something, and he was… not in a great mood. So he took a deep breath, forced a casual smile onto his face, and opened the door. “Hey, what’s going on?” he called out.

“Oh, Kyle!” Sheila appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking positively giddy. “You’ll never believe it- Ike was picked to be on a Quizbowl team representing all of Park County, competing in Denver next month!”

“Quizbowl? I didn’t know he did stuff like that,” Kyle replied.

Ike peeked out from the doorway, looking amused. “It’s not that big a deal, the middle school has been throwing it together and they picked me because I’m top of the class.”

“Heh. Well, I’m sure you’ll blow them away,” Kyle said, starting to head for the stairs.

“Oh Kyle, won’t you join us? I made cookies to celebrate!” Sheila asked.

Kyle winced, but remained smiling. “No thanks, ma, I’m pretty tired from the game…”

“Oh, alright. Well, we’ll try to keep it down,” she said, smiling sweetly at him, though Kyle could see a touch of worry there.

“It’s fine, mom, don’t worry about it.”

Kyle carefully made his way up the stairs, hearing Sheila go back to praising her younger son. He could hear his father’s voice as well, and Ike’s laughter. Even when he closed the door it was still there, just muffled. His smile slowly faded as he stared at the closed door. Ike.  _ Ike. _ So young, so gifted. So much… better.

Kyle wasn’t so much jealous as he was hurt. He was supposed to be the big brother, he was supposed to be the one to look up to, he was supposed to accomplish things that his younger sibling could aspire to match. But Ike didn’t need that. He was doing pretty well on his own. If anything, Kyle held him back, taking time and attention their parents spent on him instead. It was crazy to imagine where Ike might be if the Broflovskis could have spent all of their time on him.

Slowly, Kyle turned away from the door and walked to his desk. He slid a pocketknife from the drawer and sat on his bed, slumped over. He hadn’t done this in months. It was always so tempting, but he’d held off. He wanted… He wanted Stan to tell him he’d done well. But there wasn’t much point to that anymore, was there?

No more stars. No more Stan. No more whispers or secrets or anything. No more.

He shuffled out of his pants and shirt, not bothering with pajamas tonight. Then he took the knife and dragged it across his thigh. A thin red line appeared, illuminated by the moonlight through Kyle’s window. Kyle wasn’t sure if he didn’t feel much from it because he was already in so much pain, or because of the long, chilly walk home. Maybe both, now.

Kyle wished he’d been the one to fall.

* * *

“Kyle, what the fuck? Why did you just bail on us last night?” Kenny asked as he met with Kyle at the corner by the movie theater.

Kyle sighed, looking faintly annoyed. “I just ended up in a shit mood, okay? Didn’t wanna ruin your fun. Would think you’d be happy to have Butters to yourself for a little bit.” He looked away, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie.

Kenny frowned, crossing his arms. “... Stan said something that got me thinking, the other day. It made me realize I mostly just hang around Cartman for you and Stan. Well, mostly you, now.”

He didn’t want to point it out, but he could tell that Kyle had been crying most of the night. His eyes were red and puffy, and there were bags under them as well. He seemed so exhausted, like he could fall over at any moment.

Still, he glared at Kenny. “Well, don’t bother on my account. If you don’t want to hang out with Cartman anymore, then don’t.”

“What’s gotten into you? I know things have been rough lately, but dude, you’re really starting to worry me.” Kenny didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t as if he could force Kyle to open up, but he had to try. “What happened last night?”

“You really wanna know?” Kyle spat. “I told Stan to get lost after he tried pestering me yet again. He’s clearly happier with Craig’s gang, there’s no point in him trying to remember stupid shit when things are better for him now.”

“What?” Kenny could hardly believe his ears. “Kyle, what the hell? Why did you do that?!”

“Because it’s the truth. And if you really are only hanging out with Cartman to be around me, then you should fuck off too. I highly doubt it’s worth it, not when you could be spending time with Stan or your sister or Butters. That guy’s been waiting for you to ask him out since freshman year, just fucking do it already and stop wasting time.”

Kenny was utterly baffled. He had no idea where all of this was coming from, but it was incredibly unnerving. “Dude, I’m not fucking bailing on you. You’re being kind of a dick right now, but you’re still my friend. Why won’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

“Look, I just-”

Kyle’s retort was interrupted by Kenny’s phone going off, and he grimaced as he pulled it off. “Damnit, that’s my alarm, I need to get to work…”

“Then go.” Kyle looked away.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Kenny said firmly as he turned to head toward the employee entrance of the theater. As he walked away, he thought he heard Kyle’s voice again.

“No, we won’t,” was all he could make out.

When Kenny turned to respond, Kyle was already walking down the road, heading toward the coffee shop. A shiver ran down Kenny’s spine. What the hell was  _ that _ supposed to mean?

* * *

Stan laid in bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Stan? Can I get you anything, honey?” Sharon called softly as she opened the door a bit.

“Nah, thanks mom. Oh- Wait, did I take my pill today? I can’t remember…”

“Yes, you did. I’ll be downstairs, you can text me if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Stan sighed as the door closed again. What happened last night had him crashing pretty hard, he didn’t even have it inside him to get out of bed. He knew he probably shouldn’t be obsessing over it so much, but the more he thought of Kyle, the deeper he dug into his own mind, and the heartache and desperation was beginning to make him sore.

He was remembering more, now. He remembered how the past few years had been rough for Kyle, though he couldn’t recall why. Stan’s best guess was high school stress, at the moment. He remembered sitting with Kyle and just talking in the dark of their rooms. He missed that. He missed Kyle’s weight and presence and warmth.

Stan remembered the feelings, too. He’d never lost them, really, but could just remember that they weren’t new. It was a deep, encompassing affection he felt for Kyle, an ache for the softness of his skin and hair, the warmth of his laugh, the lit in his voice when he said Stan’s name.

Closing his eyes, Stan pictured Kyle again. If that incident on the bridge had never happened, so much would be different now. But… What  _ had _ happened? Kenny had told him the gist of it, but even he didn’t know what the argument had been about. Maybe it wasn’t important, but apparently it had been enough for Stan to jump in and defend Kyle, or maybe try to calm them both down, or something…

Cartman had pushed Stan, already dangerously close to the railing, and Stan remembered stumbling back, falling, Kenny lurching forward and grabbing him by the collar-

Stan’s brow furrowed as he opened his eyes, though all he could see was the ceiling. That couldn’t be right, could it? Kenny had said he’d had nothing to do with it, and if he’d fallen with Stan, he would’ve gotten hurt pretty badly too, wouldn’t he?

It took what felt like ages for Stan to slowly roll over and grab his phone from the bedside table. Scrolling through his contacts, he tapped Kenny’s and pressed ‘Call.’ He was probably just remembering it wrong, but it would definitely bother him if he didn’t sort it out.

Kenny, thankfully, picked up after a few rings. “Hey Stan, what’s up? I don’t have a ton of time to talk, just on break at work.”

“Ah, sorry dude, I just…” Stan took a deep breath. “I was trying to remember what the hell happened on the bridge that day, and… I feel like I remember you grabbing me when I fell, but… You didn’t get hurt that day, right?”

“Uh…” Kenny sounded quite awkward. “How much do you remember?”

Stan thought about it. “I remember you grabbing the front of my shirt and trying to pull me up, but then falling with me, but…”

“Ooooookay then. That’s unexpected.”

Stan blinked. “What? Dude, you didn’t fall with me, right? You said it yourself!”

“... Ah fuck it, if you remember, I should just tell you. I fibbed before. The main reason I’m surprised is because people don’t tend to remember my… incidents,” Kenny explained. “But yea, I fell with you that day. Actually, remember how the doctors said it was a miracle you walked away with only some bruises and generalized amnesia? That was because I, uh… broke your fall.”

“You… But… You didn’t..?” Stan’s head hurt.

“Okay this is going to sound really crazy, so you just have to trust me, man. I… died that day. The fall killed me because that drop is  _ nasty _ , but me breaking your fall likely saved your life. It’s not the first time I’ve died, either.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. This had to be a joke, right? “Har har, very funny, Kenny. I’m literally talking to you right now. You’re not dead.”

“That's the thing, though! I don’t stay dead! I used to die, like,  _ allllll _ the time when we were kids. I made it my entire gimmick when we played superheroes, remember? Well, kind of. Point is, you… actually remember it. Fuck, that just doesn’t happen. Uh, you can ask Damien? He knows about it, he’ll be able to confirm,” Kenny said.

“Okay. I mean, even if you’re telling the truth, which I’m not entirely sure you are-”

“I don’t blame you there, I’m aware it sounds utterly batshit.”

“Right. In any case, it doesn’t change a ton? Except I guess thanks for saving my life? Sorry you died?”

Kenny laughed. “Oh, no worries, dude. Dying sucks but I would waaaay rather die and come back than let you die. Don’t sweat it.”

“Right…” Stan wasn’t really sure he believed Kenny, but… it didn’t sound like he was lying, this was a little too crazy to be a lie, and well, he could ask Damien. That guy wasn’t one to pull punches. “Sorry for taking up your break. I’ve just been in bed all day, ‘cause of what happened last night…”

“Oh yea, Kyle told me about it before I went into work. Well, he mentioned he told you to get lost. I seriously don’t get what’s going on. He looked  _ really _ upset this morning. I almost got it out of him, I think, but I had to get in before I was late, and… I dunno, man. I’m worried.”

Stan sighed. “Tweek’s convinced Cartman’s done something, and the other guys seem inclined to believe it. I don’t know what to think.”

“For real? I dunno, I mean… it’s possible, but really, Cartman isn’t anywhere near as bad as he used to be. He’s still not great, but I don’t think he’s behind this one. Or at least, if he is, he’s doing a damn good job of hiding it.” Kenny groaned. “God, what a mess. I’ll look into it, okay? If something like that is up, I’ve got the best bet of figuring it out.”

“Right. I wish I could help more. I’m remembering more than ever, but I still feel like I’m missing something. I think… I think I’ve been in love with him for a long time, Kenny. I’ve gotta get him back,” Stan told him, feeling more helpless than ever.

“Damn, dude…” Kenny whistled softly. “I mean, I always figured you two would end up with feelings for each other, but hearing you say that out loud is something else. I think you should tell him. Maybe that’ll snap him out of whatever this is and make it clear you’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m half afraid he’ll just rip my heart out and eat it,” Stan admitted with a weak chuckle.

“Yea… Under normal circumstances I’d say that’s dumb, but considering what’s happened so far, I really have no idea. He might try to hurt you to drive you away. But I know… You two have always been close. Two peas in a pod, man. We’ve gotta try.”

“Yea. I want to, even if it hurts,” Stan murmured.

“You seem pretty chill about that, by the way. Been thinking about it for a while?” Kenny’s grin was practically audible.

Stan laughed softly. “That first day back at school, when he came through the doors with Wendy… I didn’t remember a damn thing, but somehow, I still  _ knew _ I’d never seen anyone more beautiful.”

“Holy  _ shit _ . Okay, seriously, you need to say that to him. Say exactly what you just told me, there’s no way he’d be able to even come up with an attempt to push you off,” he laughed out, sounding enthusiastic about it.

“Heh, you think?”

“I don’t think, dude, I know. That sort of thing, you’ll just barge past all his insecurities and smack him in the face, and I mean that in the best way. You’ve got this. I’ll drag him over tonight, or tell you where we are, or something, I promise.”

Stan chuckled a little. “Alright… I’ll try, then. If it means saving our friendship, or potential relationship, or whatever… It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Right. I’ll text you dude, promise. See you later?”

“See ya.”

Stan hung up, feeling just a bit better about himself and his situation. The idea of confessing made him feel like vomiting, but Kenny seemed to have faith in the idea, and Stan could, at least, let himself get a little swept up in Kenny’s positive energy.

Well, if they were going to do this, Stan should take a shower, at the very least. He slowly dragged himself out of bed, grabbing something he could throw on.

* * *

Kyle didn’t really feel up to going back home, especially not after talking to Kenny, so he went over Cartman’s instead. He was pretty much the only friend Kyle would have left at this rate, especially considering the bastard enjoyed bothering Kyle too much to get rid of him.

He trudged upstairs to find Cartman sitting in his desk chair as usual, turned toward the TV as he grinded through some game Kyle didn’t care enough to identify at the moment. He glanced up as Kyle trudged in.

“Oh, hey,” Cartman said, seeming surprised. “The fuck are you doing here?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “What do you think? Gimme a controller,” he said, sitting on the floor near Cartman’s chair.

Cartman snorted. “Do you even know what I’m playing?”

“No, but I can figure it out pretty quick, just like everything else.”

Cartman shrugged and handed him another controller, then switched the game to multiplayer mode. It was near silent, the only real sound coming from the TV, as Kyle settled in and got a handle on the controls. It wasn’t exactly a difficult task, as most of the games Cartman played at the moment had the same rough idea to them, running around and beating things up.

“... So what happened at the game last night? Tweek finally snap in half?” Cartman asked.

“He was still in one piece by the time I left. Dunno past that.”

“Tch. So you don’t even know how it ended.”

Kyle glanced at Cartman, raising a brow. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t. But you and most of the idiots at school have been dead-set on going to every game, so I figured you’d know.” There was a strange look on Cartman’s face, partway between annoyed and almost… concerned, if Kyle had to take a guess. But this was Cartman, since when did he worry about literally anything that didn’t inconvenience him?

Kyle rolled his eyes. “What, did you have some bet on who would win or whatever? Find out from someone else, I don’t care.”

“Yeesh, what’d you do, throw up from the stadium food  _ again _ ? Or did you just pout and mope because Stan’s hanging out with other dumbasses now? Hell, did he even go?” Cartman asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised if being alone left him too lonely to go at all, bet he would’ve swooned over the first person to offer to sit with him!”

Kyle knew that tone well enough by now; Cartman was trying to rile him up, itching for him to take the bait. “Dude… I’m really not up to this today. If you wanna know how the game went that badly, just text Kenny or something. But if you haven’t heard about it already, Tweek is probably fine. You shouldn’t let him find out you’re hoping he gets hurt, though, doesn’t he hate your guts enough already?”

There was a strange point of silence before Cartman spoke again. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he finally said, “you’re such a god damn drag lately. First you throw some bitchfit over the same shit we always do, then Stan gets hurt and you’re completely fucking moping over something  _ you _ decided to do! What, were you hoping he’d come running back to you or some shit?” He wasn’t trying to pick a fight anymore, instead sounding genuinely pissed.

Kyle just looked up at him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes once more. “Don’t you ever get tired of your own bullshit?” he asked. He was more than a little tired of it himself, though there was a twinge of annoyance as Cartman referenced the incident that started this whole mess.

“Ugh, you’re such a drag now. If you’re going to be so emo, why don’t you just go off yourself already,” Cartman bit, snatching the controller from Kyle’s hands.

Kyle raised a brow. “Emo?”

“Yea! Ever since you made Stan fuck off, you’ve been a depressed, boring fuck. Either go get your boyfriend back or get lost, because I’m sick of it. Get the fuck out of my house.” Cartman glared at him.

“... Fine.”

Kyle stood and turned, leaving Cartman’s room. He heard Cartman’s mom say something as he came down the steps, but he didn’t really register it, let alone reply, just heading outside and walking down the sidewalk.

And wasn’t that just like Cartman, saying whatever the hell he wanted. Kyle wondered for a moment if Cartman would’ve said the same if he knew the truth, but really, he probably would. He didn’t care about other people’s feelings, even if he wasn’t quite as big a douchebag as he used to be. Or rather, he was less of a dangerous douchebag, considering he didn’t tend to  _ do _ much anymore. He ran his mouth just as he always had, though.

Kyle’s phone buzzed and he tugged it from his pocket. Butters was calling him. Pretty much his only friend he hadn’t told to fuck off, or was told to fuck off by. A faint curiosity inside him wondered what the hell Butters wanted. Maybe he was upset about Kyle ditching him last night. That was probably it. Yet another person he’d upset.

Maybe it was time to sever that too.

He turned off his phone entirely. One by one, he’d burned the bridges he’d had all his life. If he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t have any left. But maybe that was for the best, to push them all away before…

Before what?

_ If you’re going to be so emo, why don’t you just go off yourself already. _

Listening to Cartman was never a good idea, but… Maybe… Maybe, for once, Cartman was right. Kyle knew damn well Cartman didn’t mean it with any degree of seriousness, but wouldn’t he be surprised if Kyle actually followed his advice for once? Maybe he’d even regret it- or maybe he’d be smug and brag that he was right.

God, he wanted to hurt Cartman so bad. But more than that… he just wanted to be done with it all. He’d already shot through all his friendships, or just about done so, and his family… They’d be hurt, he knew. But at the end of the day…

Kyle was a leech. He was sucking up their time and money and energy, things that would be far better to spend on Ike. It would hurt, but they’d move on. Ike was pretty annoyed with him overall nowadays, he’d probably be glad not to have to deal with his stupid, overly dramatic big brother anymore.

There wasn’t a single person who would be worse off without him, Kyle figured. Upset for a bit, maybe, but they’d get over it and move on. They’d probably forget about him entirely by the end of senior year. Ike would start high school, and the others would graduate, and… Really, what impact did Kyle have on the world?

A waste of life, that was what he was. A waste of time, of air, of food, of everything. A waste, a waste, a  _ waste _ . He didn’t deserve it. Even more, he didn’t want it.

But he was the only one who could do anything about that, wasn’t he?

* * *

Butters frowned as he pulled the phone away from his ear. He wasn’t entirely surprised Kyle hadn’t picked up, but it still bothered him. He looked so sickly lately, and last night… Butters had thought, perhaps, his and Kenny’s plan would work, that they might get Kyle to open up about what was going on. But then Kyle had just disappeared from the game and their chance was gone.

Damien had asked Butters to go with him to North Park today to help pick out an anniversary present for Pip, and the store they were going to was right by a bakery that sold some cookies that Kyle really liked. The plan was to get some and go to just directly talk to Kyle again, but if he wasn’t even answering his phone…

No, Butters decided, he needed to try anyway. He’d get some cookies and hunt down wherever Kyle was, then he’d do whatever it took to get through to Kyle and find out what was wrong.

Everything would be alright. Butters would  _ make _ it alright, whatever it took.

* * *

“Ike?” Sheila called.

“Yea?” Ike called back, pausing his game.

“Have you heard from Kyle? He’s not home yet, and his phone is off,” Sheila said, appearing in Ike’s doorway. Her face was a picture of worry.

Ike’s brow furrowed. “No. Maybe his phone went dead?”

Sheila sighed and shook her head. She only looked even more worried. “Maybe, but Kyle has never let his phone die. I don’t understand it…”

“Well, he’s been acting pretty weird since that accident. I guess he’s just letting things go even more than before. I swear, he’s just being stubborn. Who makes themselves miserable over their friend getting amnesia?” It was really starting to piss Ike off, especially since he’d heard through the social grapevine that Kyle shoving Stan away was upsetting Stan as well. The guy had basically become a second brother to Ike, after all.

Sheila pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. He’s so upset, I know, but he won’t say what’s wrong. I thought he’d work it out on his own, he usually does, but… I hope he doesn’t think he can’t come to me because of that,” she murmured.

Ike frowned, thinking it over. “... I can ask him. If that’s it, well, that’s easy to solve, right?”

“Well… hopefully, yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that.” Sheila smiled softly and stepped forward.

Standing up to meet her, Ike wrapped his arms around his mother, feeling her return the sentiment. “I’m still your mother, Ike, it’s my job to take care of you both. I shouldn’t be sharing those sorts of worries with you.”

“Well… You have, now, so I can help anyway. Kyle’s being a total brat,” Ike grumbled.

Sheila sighed again, gently brushing her fingers through Ike’s hair. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I think something’s very wrong. Please, be kind to your brother, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Ike relented. He still thought Kyle needed a kick in the ass, but he didn’t have to do that in front of his mom. And considering his usual tactics hadn’t worked so far, perhaps she had the right idea, in this case.

It made Ike frown when he considered it. Usually, giving Kyle a hard time and a good shove was enough to get him moving in the right direction, and Kyle had even told him he’d appreciated it before, but could something be wrong enough that he needed a bit more gentle prodding?

“Dinner will be done soon,” Sheila said as she pulled away. “I’ll call you down when it’s ready, okay?”

“Yep, sounds good.”

Ike watched her leave before leaning back in his chair. Maybe he’d been too rough on Kyle before. His mom was right in that Kyle usually resolved his issues on his own, he was always so mature and self-sufficient, he had his life put together. Of course, no one could have everything handled all the time, everyone had their weaknesses. Maybe this scenario had hit a particular one of Kyle’s.

Guilt overtook Ike, and he wondered if maybe he should apologize for being an ass. Even if it usually worked… Ugh, it was a mess. Ike figured he’d just wait for Kyle to get home, then figure out what to do from there.

* * *

Craig watched as Clyde paced back and forth, looking downright troubled. “... You’re gonna make a ditch in your carpet at this rate.”

Clyde snorted, though there wasn’t much humor behind it. “Sorry dude, just… I don’t know. Something isn’t right.”

Tilting his head, Craig just watched as Clyde went back to pacing. “Is the situation with Kyle and Stan really getting to you that much?”

“Yea, man. Just… With what’s going on, something’s really wrong,” Clyde explained as he continued his movements. “Like, okay, Stan’s forgotten something, something  _ big _ . The problem is this is something so secret not even Cartman, Kenny, or Butters know it, only Stan, something about Kyle that they’ve kept a secret for three years. Something that changes everything between them, that Kyle can’t handle Stan not remembering, that he  _ wants _ Stan to remember- Until all of a sudden he makes it very clear Stan should just stop and move on without him.”

“Well, we don’t know that Cartman doesn’t know. Bastard could just be keeping it to himself,” Craig pointed out.

Clyde shook his head a little. “I don’t think that’s it. Kyle clearly wants this to stay a secret, meaning Cartman would probably tell everyone for that reason alone, unless it involved something embarrassing for him, which I doubt it does considering he’s been pretty neutral on the whole situation.”

“You’ve really been thinking about this,” Craig realized aloud.

“Of course I have. It’s been bugging the hell out of me, man.” Clyde sighed and stopped in the middle of his room. He tilted his head back and pressed his palms against his eyes. “Kyle’s been looking like absolute shit, too, it’s getting more and more obvious. He’s not eating right, he’s definitely not sleeping right, I’ve heard from the girls that his grades are way down and he doesn’t even seem to care. At the very least, he hasn’t clued anyone in, which is just as telling with him. The only reason any of them know is because Nichole overheard one of the teachers talking with him at one point. The teachers are chalking it up to senior stress, apparently.”

Craig shook his head a little. “Not this early in the year. It’s obviously connected to what happened with Stan, and whatever secret he knew, but what could be so bad it’s left him like this?” Now that he thought about it, Craig had to agree that something was off about the whole situation. 

Clyde sighed. “God, I’m sounding more paranoid than Tweek. If he’s not that worried about it, I shouldn’t be either.”

“Maybe. But… I dunno, trust your instincts man. If your gut’s saying something up, maybe something’s up.” Craig didn’t really like it when people made that sort of comparison with Tweek, especially since Tweek freaked out a lot more in private than in public nowadays.” You know Tweek keeps his anxieties more private nowadays.”

“Right, you’re right. I just figured since you didn’t say anything about it… I dunno. Maybe I should try talking to Kyle myself. If my gut’s really onto something, maybe it’ll pick up even more with direct interaction.” Clyde dropped onto the bed, flopping into his back.

Craig looked at him, then closed his eyes. Now that Clyde had pointed it all out, he felt a low thrum of distant alarm in his gut. “ I kinda hope you’re wrong, just because like… If you’re right, it means something really is wrong, and no one knows what it is.”

“Isn’t that kind of what the situation is already? It’s more… things are worse than everyone thinks.” Clyde sighed. “What the hell did Stan know..?”

“I dunno, man. I dunno.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit shorter than the others, mostly because there's only so much left to set up before the next chapter. This took a little while, because it's just difficult, both to write and to pry from my own heart.  
> All I can really say is brace yourself, I guess.


	5. Chapter 5

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, Kyle made his way toward the bridge.

He didn’t want to remember stars and red markers and the way Stan would look at his cuts. He didn’t want to remember all the years of Cartman’s jeers and insults and threats, how much they fought, how often Stan tried to soothe them, or how Kenny let it roll off him like water. He didn’t want to remember how much happier Stan was with Craig and those guys, where he didn’t have to deal with Cartman or Kyle or their fighting.

He wanted to forget, like Stan did.

All those years, supporting Stan as he worked through his developing depression and cynicism, all that time Stan returned the favor when he found Kyle hurting himself, that Kyle was in pain, that he was burning from the inside out.

And Kyle didn’t want him to remember, not anymore, because it was better that way. Stan was better without him, without someone whose depression was constantly dragging them down, without Cartman and his horribleness, without his father’s toxic influence. Kenny would be there for him, and Craig and Tweek and Clyde and Token. And he could fall in love with Wendy all over again, and maybe they could even work it out this time. Kyle had seen the way he looked at her that first day of school, the awe in his eyes. With less hang-ups, Stan might be able to be a better boyfriend for her now. 

Kyle deserved this. It was his fault. If he hadn’t put his foot down, if he hadn’t fought with Cartman day after day, year after year, Cartman never would’ve pushed Kyle, Stan never would’ve needed to step in, and… Stan never would’ve gotten hurt.

Everyone would be better without Kyle in the picture. Wendy wouldn’t have to compete with him for Stan’s heart, or for top of the class. She could take what was rightfully hers all along, what she deserved far more than he ever did, especially now. His parents might be upset, sure, but they could take that time and money they were wasting on him and spend it on Ike. He was a genius, he had his whole life ahead of him, so much smarter and more talented and better than Kyle could ever, ever be. Kenny wouldn't feel the need to hang around Cartman anymore, and Butters would be able to spend more time with him by extension.

Even Cartman was sick of him, and that probably hurt most of all. All this time, he’d thought Cartman was the one that needed Kyle in his life, but perhaps it had really been the other way around. Kyle didn’t know anymore.

When he got to the bridge, Kyle climbed over the railing and looked down at the shallow stream at the bottom of the ravine. It hadn’t killed Stan, but that had been nothing short of a miracle, or so the doctors claimed. Kyle didn’t want a miracle. He just wanted to forget. To forget the pain, both his own and that which he’d caused others. He wanted to forget how much happier Stan was without him, and how much better everything would be for everyone else once he was gone.

Kyle closed his eyes and let go of the rail, plummeting into the ravine.

* * *

**_\- Halloween, Three Years Ago (Freshman Year) -_ **

Kyle leaned back in bed, tracing the knife across his thigh again. He’d lost count of how many cuts he’d made tonight. Whatever. He deserved each and every one.

It was Halloween, and he was staying inside, because he was just plain upset. Yesterday, Kyle and his friends had found out they hadn’t been invited to Bebe’s Halloween party, specifically because of Kyle and Cartman’s penchant for arguing and dragging others into their arguments. She had, in the end, relented and allowed Stan and Kenny to come, but not Kyle and Cartman.

Kyle hadn’t planned on going to the party in the first place, but Stan had looked so  _ crushed _ . The image was burned into Kyle’s brain, and he couldn’t push it away. He hated it mostly because Bebe was right. He and Cartman were disruptive and terrible to be around and… Why the hell did Stan and Kenny hang out with them?

Another angry red line appeared along his thigh.

Sheila had offered for Kyle to come with her, Gerald, and Ike for trick or treating tonight, of course, but Kyle really didn’t want to be dragged along and watch Ike have fun. That’d just be depressing, as if he wasn’t already dealing with enough of that. So he was home alone.

He looked over the small knife again, watching the blood drip from it. He’d made one of the cuts deeper than usual, he figured, but he wasn’t sure which one. Maybe the one he’d just did, or one before. Blood dripped across his thighs, running sluggishly from each cut.

He could cut a little deeper, if he wanted. He could cut deeper and deeper, until the red river stained the floor and drained himself dry. Kyle watched the blood run. He could end it all.

“Hey, Kyle, I brought- Kyle?!”

Kyle’s gaze snapped up at the sudden opening of his bedroom door, his gaze meeting Stan’s. Stan’s expression was filled with a stunned horror, and Kyle felt cold sickness wash over him. The knife dropped from his loosened fingers, falling to the carpeted floor with a muted thump. The two young men stared at each other for a few moments.

Then, Stan slowly closed the door behind himself, tugging off his messenger bag and letting it fall to the floor. He slowly approached Kyle and kneeled down, picking up the knife.

Kyle’s eyes shut tight as he lowered his head and gripped the edge of the bed. All he could do was brace himself. For the yelling, for the tears, for whatever Stan’s reaction would be.

“Kyle.”

There was a lump in Kyle’s throat, he couldn’t speak around it. It was over, Stan would be upset with him, and he’d tell Sheila, and she’d be furious, and-

“Kyle,  _ look at me. _ ”

Suddenly, a hand forced Kyle’s chin up, and Kyle jolted in surprise. He opened his eyes to find Stan’s expression carefully schooled. Kyle swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Where’s the first-aid kit?” Stan asked.

“Huh?” Kyle’s voice sounded distant in his own ears. “Uh… Bathroom. Under the sink.”

Stan nodded and let his hand fall. Kyle watched as he turned and left the room with the knife. After a few moments, Stan returned, knife now conspicuously free of blood, with the first-aid kit in his other hand. He put the knife on the desk before grabbing a towel from Kyle’s dirty laundry.

Kyle watched, speechless, as Stan carefully cleaned the blood away from the cuts. Then Stan carefully wrapped a bandage around each of Kyle’s thighs, lifting them one after the other. When he was done, he shut the kit, set it on the desk, and sat beside Kyle, folding his hands in his lap.

Eyes drifting to the floor, Kyle stayed silent. They sat like that, for a few minutes, and Kyle’s mind raced. What was Stan thinking? What would he say, what would he do? Why had he bandaged Kyle’s cuts at all?

“Why are you here?” was the question he eventually blurted out, however.

Stan let out a soft huff of almost-laughter. “As opposed to Bebe’s party? I’d rather spend Halloween with my best friend, dude. Brought over my Laika collection. Thought we might watch together.”

“... Laika sounds good.” Kyle really loved their animated movies. Of course Stan had remembered.

Stan took a deep breath. “How long have you been doing that?”

The question wasn’t so much the surprise as the angle of approach Stan was seeming to take. Kyle considered, for a moment, lying and saying this was the first time, but Stan would never buy it. “First time was sixth grade. After the first day of gym, second semester, when we were changing in the locker rooms. I’ve had the knife for a while, stuffed in my closet before. Forgot about it, until I found a use for it.”

“Right.”

Craig had made a jab that day, that soon, Clyde wouldn’t be the second-fattest kid in class anymore. He hadn’t even directed it at Kyle, he’d been poking fun of his own friend, but it still burned under Kyle’s skin. The straw that broke the camel’s back, in the respect of hurting himself.

Stan finally looked at him, hurt in his expression. “I wish you could’ve come to me.”

Tears sprung to the corners of Kyle’s eyes. “How the hell could I?”

“I didn’t say I was surprised you didn’t.” Stan shook his head slowly. “So what now?”

“What now? You yell at me, tell my mom, whatever.” The end of the world, Kyle guessed. Or his world, at least.

But then Stan said something strange. “Do you  _ want _ me to tell her? Would that make it easier?”

Kyle blinked at him, at a loss. “What..?”

“Would it make it easier for you to get help, to let her find out that you need help. Do you want me to tell her for you?” Stan asked again.

“I… N-No, I don’t want her to know at all!”

“Alright.” Stan said it as if it were truly that simple. And he smiled at Kyle, faint and pained but there all the same.

Kyle didn’t understand. “You… Why are you even asking?”

Stan sighed, kicking his feet a little as he seemed to turn it over. “Look, dude… I dunno what the hell’s going on with you. I dunno what’s gotten so bad that you’re hurting yourself. But I wanna help, whatever way I can. So if you don’t want your mom to know yet, fine. If you’re not ready to reach out yet, it’s not great, but forcing you might just hurt more than it helps, y’know? That’s what mom keeps saying about dad, anyway.”

Kyle felt even sicker at the idea of being compared to  _ Randy _ of all people. “I’m nothing like him,” he hissed. “He’s a selfish bastard who doesn’t give a shit how much trouble he’s giving you guys.”

“I know.” Stan chuckled. “But it’s similar enough in principle. Obviously, I don’t want you hurting yourself, dude. But so long as you are…” He placed a hand on Kyle’s bandaged thigh. The white fabric was already soaking through with red. “I’ll help you out, man. I’ll patch you up, make sure you don’t cut too deep, or get an infection, or whatever.”

The tears spilled over at the accepting warmth in Stan’s voice. Kyle didn’t understand it at all. “But why?”

Stan shrugged a little. “Because I get it,” he said more softly. “I get where you’re at. And while I’ve never fallen so far as to do the same… I’m close enough that I can reach out from a similar place, y’know?”

Faster and faster, the tears came, until Kyle couldn’t see, so he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Stan tightly. He could feel Stan return the motion, tucking close to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyle gasped out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Stan murmured in his ear, “I’m here, I’m here for you… I promise, I’ll stick by you, however long it takes.”

His voice became wordless, although no less reassuring, noise as Kyle sobbed into his shoulder. It was as if a dam had broken inside him, letting every bit of suffering darkness spill to the forefront of his being. Having someone there, supporting his weight, offering their warmth, it meant more than he could say.

After some time, Kyle calmed somewhat and regained some sense of what he was doing. And what he sensed was shame. He pulled away and wiped his eyes, turning to the floor again.

Stan let him go, but his hands didn’t travel far. Instead, one settled on the bed while the other remained on Kyle’s thigh. “Hey. Kyle, listen to me. Why don’t we watch the movies, and in between, we can talk about this? Or we can talk about it later. Just… whenever you’re ready.”

“... I feel pathetic,” Kyle murmured. “I don’t… deserve to feel this way.”

Stan snorted, and Kyle didn’t have to look up to know he was rolling his eyes. “No one  _ deserves _ wanting to hurt themselves, Kyle.”

“... Have you ever?”

“A few times.” It was almost startling, how readily Stan admitted to it. “Not the same way. Biting is how I usually do it. Usually the heel of my hand, sometimes my wrists or forearms. Fingers. Picking at my nails is another thing too, usually my toenails. They’re tiny and pretty easy to make bleed.”

“Oh.”

Kyle felt calmer as Stan spoke. It wasn’t the end of the world, or the end of their friendship, or anything like that. It was something Stan understood very well. And of course he did, Kyle knew… Kyle knew damn well how bad Stan’s depression got some days. He wiped his nose.

Stan shook his head a little. “You've stood by me. You haven’t seen me at my lowest, but the times I’ve been damn close to it? You’ve been there. Why wouldn’t I be there for you? And yea, I want to tell your mom, I want you to get help and feel better. But that’s not really something you can force. So… Whenever you’re ready to take that leap, dude, I’m there with you.”

There was a firmness in his voice that settled Kyle’s stomach. “... Can we watch Coraline first?”

“Uh, duh. You gotta watch them in order, dude, that’s the only way to do it,” Stan replied without missing a beat.

“Of course. Thanks, Stan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is. The two scenes that started my writing of this story to begin with. Or rather, the final versions of these two scenes.
> 
> In truth, the bridge scene has at least five different versions. Ones where he's saved from the jump, ones where he's not, where people talk to him right before, where they talk him out of it, where they're too late... but none of them feel right, because none of them got to the point of why I'm writing all this to begin with.
> 
> This story is, more than anything, about catharsis. For myself, for the characters, and for hopefully you, the reader. To plunge into the deepest and darkest parts of my heart and purge it from the depths of my soul. And I kind of laugh as I type this because it sounds a bit overdramatic, but I guess that's the point of all this. To be overly dramatic for the sake of getting it all out. But that's the fun of it, I guess.
> 
> And of course, the drama isn't over. But that's saved for the coming chapters.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. Really, this story is probably the most difficult one I've ever written. It's certainly not my best work, but it's the one that means the most to me, it's the most personal and it's touching on some really difficult things for me.  
> I want to say thank you to everyone who's left a comment thus far, and especially to 99griffon, whose comment on the previous chapter gave me a good kick to finally get this one written, though it still took a few more days to go back and edit some.

_ “Oh no you fucking don’t,” _ a voice echoed somewhere in the darkness.  _ “I am  _ **_not_ ** _ dealing with all the bawling that’s going to come if you die. These people haven’t given up on you, you have no right to give up on yourself and make them all fucking miserable, you piece of shit.” _

Oh yea, Kyle recalled distantly, people who commit suicide go to hell, if he remembered correctly. He hadn’t forgotten it so much as he hadn’t cared. But that was the way it was.

_ “Hey, aren’t you listening to me?! I said you’re going to live, damnit!” _

Damien sounded pretty pissed. Kyle supposed he’d have to apologize once he really got a hold of himself. Pissing off the guy residing over hell probably wasn’t the greatest idea.

_ “Oh for the love of- DAD, will you come fucking help me with this? You still owe Kenny one, don’t you?” _

… Satan owed Kenny a favor? Weird.

A soft light appeared at the edge of his vision, and he reached toward it instinctually.

_ “That’s it, kid,” _ a deeper voice sounded this time, rumbling through Kyle’s very being.  _ “It’s not your time yet.” _

\-------

Stan toed at a crack in the sidewalk, shoving his hands in his pockets. Token was talking about some show he was watching, but Stan could barely hear Token over his own thoughts. Kenny hadn't called him back yesterday and it was really starting to get to him, but Kenny hadn't responded to any of Stan's texts about it either. So Stan was left wondering what had happened, if perhaps Kenny was rethinking their plan.

“Stan?” Token called, “Are you okay?”

Stan's head jerked up at the other's voice. “Huh? Oh I'm all right, just a bit distracted I guess. I made plans with Kenny yesterday, but he never got back to me. It was about Kyle. He seemed pretty confident in our idea, but since he didn't call me back…”

Token smiled sympathetically. “I can see why that would be distracting you. I don't mind if you're not really listening, I've mostly just been rambling because I don't care for quiet. I think I can blame Clyde for that.”

Stan chuckled. “Yea, that makes sense.”

“That said,” Token continued, “I'm very curious about what you guys were apparently planning. I'm guessing it was something to get Kyle to take back this whole not wanting to be friends anymore thing?”

“Yeah. It was actually about me admitting that I like him, and how I reacted when I saw him the first day back at school,” Stan admitted, cheeks turning red. “Kenny really seemed to think that it would snap Kyle out of whatever weird funk he's in. But that was yesterday, and we planned on doing that in the evening. Since he never called me back about it, and isn't answering my texts, I don't know what to think.”

“Damn, " Token whistled softly, “you were really going to do that? That's a ballsy move, not that I can really blame you at this point. Maybe a ballsy move is what you need to get through to him. Kind of weird Kenny hasn't called you back though, he isn’t one to forget things like this. Maybe something came up and he got busy?”

“Yea, probably. Maybe something happened with his sister. He's super protective of her, right?”

“Totally,” Token affirmed. “He'll probably call you back later and apologize and stuff.”

“Yea…” Stan scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk again.

Token stayed quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Hey, something else- I was thinking of taking a trip after graduation, and bringing friends along. You should come too, dude. Clyde really wants to head to the beach, and I’m inclined to agree.”

“Of course you are,” Stan teased, “You guys are way different, but you still kinda end up going along with the same things half the time. Plus, he can get you to agree to almost anything, and going to the beach isn’t exactly…” he trailed off, a smile fading.

Token frowned. “Stan..?”

“I think…” Stan murmured, feeling an echo in the back of his mind. “Kyle and I… We were planning on going to the beach too.” His own voice sounded in his head, memory making his vision fade at the edges.

_ “You said you weren’t sure about dating while you were so depressed. So, when you’re feeling better, feeling stronger, let’s go on a date.” _

In his mind’s eye, he could see Kyle, in his arms, so close, cheeks reddening.  _ “I… guess that makes sense.” _

_ “You don’t have to. I just thought having a goal might help you push forward. We can forget it, if you want,” _ Stan had told him, unsure of his own words.

_ “... Let’s save up and go to the ocean,” _ had been Kyle’s reply, voice soft.

Stan had been surprised, then. It would be a long trip, to do so.  _ “Really?” _

Kyle had shrugged, but a small smile on his lips had made Stan’s chest flutter.  _ “It’d be nice. And a good test of our energy, taking a big trip. Maybe take Kenny and Butters with us, I’m sure they’d enjoy going to the beach again.” _

_ “Definitely wouldn’t be going without Karen, then. And Ike could come along too,” _ Stan had agreed, excitement growing.

“Stan? Stan, are you with me?” Token said, his hands on Stan’s shoulders bringing Stan back to the present. 

It was then that Stan realized there were tears in the corners of his eyes. “I… I remembered something. We wanted to go to the ocean together, we…”

He repeated the words of his memory, both his own and Kyle’s. Token’s eyes widened further as Stan spoke, and he let his hands fall.

“You said while  _ you _ were so depressed, in reference to  _ Kyle _ ,” Token said.

Stan could hear the dread filling Token’s voice, it echoing the emotion filling his chest. And it all made sense, all of a sudden. A secret only Stan would be privy to, one Kyle wouldn’t feel comfortable with Kenny or Butters knowing, one that changed their friendship irrevocably. “He knew about my feelings,” Stan muttered, “we planned it… as a date. But that wasn’t the thing he needed me to remember.”

“We need to go  _ now _ ,” Token said, grabbing Stan’s hand. “Craig told me last night that Clyde’s been driven up a wall by this, he seriously thinks something’s wrong but can’t figure out what-  _ That’s _ what. And knowing he’s depressed, combined with how he’s been acting...”

Stan’s heart plummeted and he soon found himself bolting down the sidewalk with Token on his heels. Stan knew his own mind, he knew how awful his depression was, and if Kyle could relate in any capacity, Stan needed to be there, to make sure he wasn’t alone, that he knew he wasn’t alone. He didn’t remember everything yet, all the details of how Kyle was experiencing this sickness, or why no one else knew, but that could come later. He needed to make sure Kyle was okay.

\-------

Kyle woke up. Or at least, that was kind of what it felt like.

Slowly, he drew himself to his feet, looking around. He was standing in the midst of a field, tall grass stretching as far as he could see. It reached nearly up to his elbows. The sky overhead was pale and grey, and the grass itself looked muted and washed out.

Well, this definitely wasn’t hell. Kyle doubted it was heaven either, considering he was alone, and he knew for certain it wasn’t home.

He folded his arms around himself, feeling a chill. He wasn’t injured here. No pain, no physical sensation from the grass brushing against his bulky form. 

Kyle sighed, then took a step forward. Then another, and another, walking through the endless, empty plain. He wasn’t sure where he was going, if anywhere at all, but he also didn’t see much point in staying in place either. All he had left was to stay or go.

\--------------

Stan quickly knocked on the door of the Broflovskis’ home. After a few moments, the door flew open, and Stan found himself facing Ike. Ike seemed almost excited for a moment, before his face fell. “Oh. It’s just you.”

Stan wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he was more worried about Kyle at the moment. “Is Kyle home?”

Ike’s expression only soured further. “No,” he bit, “and before you ask, I dunno where he is either. He didn’t come home last night.”

Stan and Token glanced at one another in alarm. Token stepped forward. “What about your parents?”

“Mom left last night, in a real hurry. Dad won’t tell me shit, though,” Ike said bitterly. Stan could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. “Whatever the hell’s going on, they won’t tell me anything. It’s pretty fucking obvious something bad happened, but they won’t…”

Stan didn’t know what to say. It was possible that whatever had happened had nothing to do with what Stan had recalled, but with how Kyle had been behaving as of late… 

“Stan? What are you doing here?”

All three of them looked up to see Gerald exit the kitchen, phone in one hand. Ike was the first to respond. “They’re here looking for Kyle. I told them I don’t know where the hell he is,” he spat, voice filled with venom.

Gerald’s face darkened. “Ike…” He sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face. “There’s… Something happened. Who’s your friend, Stan?”

“You can tell him, if that’s what you’re asking,” Stan replied. “He’s a friend of mine and Kyle’s too. I… I came over because I remembered something important, something I needed to talk to Kyle about.”

“Come in and close the door, then,” Gerald said. He sat on the couch, looking and sounding exhausted. Stepping closer, Stan could see the shadows under his eyes.

The three of them stepped further into the living room, Token shutting the door behind them. Ike sat beside his father while Token and Stan decided to remain standing.

Gerald leaned back, sighing. “... Kyle just got out of surgery. He’s stable, but the doctor… the doctor said they’re not sure if he’ll ever walk normally again. And that’s if he wakes up at all.” By the end of the statement, his voice was little more than a rasp, and tears flooded his eyes.

Ike looked halfway between sick and apprehensive. “What happened?”

“He… He jumped off a bridge.”

A horrified silence filled the room. A flurry of emotions crossed Ike’s face, settling on anger. “Jumped?! No way, he wouldn’t- It had to be something else, like- Cartman was the one to push Stan off, right? What if he did that to Kyle too?!”

Gerald slowly shook his head. “No, he… A friend of his saw, apparently. Witnessed it right as Kyle let go of the rail, not enough time to even call out.”

“No,” Ike said, voice cracking, “That can’t… Kyle… Why would he..?”

Token put a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “I’m going to round up the guys, see if I can reach out to Kenny and Butters,” he murmured to Stan.

Stan could barely hear him through the haze filling his mind. He just gave a small nod, and Token slipped out the door without drawing too much attention to himself. 

Stan stepped forward, though it was more of a stumble at this point. “I’m sorry, I…. What I remembered,” he said, trying to keep his voice even slightly steady, “I don’t remember everything, I’m not even entirely sure what it was, but we… I think he… he was depressed, or something like it, and I found out somehow, and we… I kept it a secret, I was probably helping him, but…”

Ike’s expression was filled with agony. “That thing he wanted you to remember…”

Stan nodded shakily.

“Damnit,” Ike hissed, “ _ Damnit! _ I… I yelled at him, I thought he was just being a stubborn asshole, that he needed to get over himself, I didn’t…”

Gerald stood, taking Ike’s hand and tugging him to his feet. He then stepped over, putting a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. Either of you. I’m going to head over to the hospital. If the two of you want to come-”

“I’m coming!” Ike burst out before Gerald even finished. “I gotta… I…” Stan just nodded in agreement, moving over to take Ike’s other hand. Ike’s grip was painfully tight.

Gerald nodded. “Come on, then.”

\---------------

When they arrived at the hospital, Gerald and Ike were led back to a separate room. Stan wasn’t allowed apparently, since he wasn’t family, so he was stuck in the waiting room. For better or worse, however, he wasn’t alone.

Butters looked up from his seat, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “Stan? What are you doing here?”

“I found out what happened from Kyle’s dad,” Stan murmured as he sat beside Butters. “I was going to talk to Kyle because… I remembered something important.”

Butters laughed bitterly. “Let me guess… It was something to do with this, wasn’t it?”

“Yea.”

They fell into silence for a few moments, because truly, what could either of them say? What could anyone say? It didn’t take a genius to connect that Butters was likely the one to see Kyle jump, and Stan didn’t really have the heart to ask him about it. It seemed, however, that Butters wanted to speak of it anyways.

“I was heading to North Park with Damien,” Butters whispered, just barely loud enough for Stan to hear. “We rounded the corner and… We saw Kyle on the bridge. Over the railing… Letting go. I didn’t even have enough time to say anything. W-We called the ambulance immediately, of course. Damien… He said Kyle was in really, really bad shape. I’m guessing if it wasn’t for him being there… Well, we’d be planning a funeral instead.”

Stan felt sick to his stomach. “I guess so.” Kyle had to have jumped off the same bridge Stan fell from, and Stan… The fall had killed Kenny. Stan could still picture the flash of blood.

“Called Kenny too,” Butters continued. “Apparently he went with Damien to go look too. I dunno how, but he promised he’d be able to help. Pip’s watching after Karen so he doesn’t have to worry.”

“Gotcha.” Stan had to wonder if Kenny’s ability to go looking had anything to do with his apparent ability to die and come back. “I… Is it bad that I hope they don’t find him? I mean, if they do, doesn’t that mean he’s… Even if his body is alive, that doesn’t mean…”

Butters sucked in a shaky breath. “Yea. So… You knew, then. That he was like this.”

“I think so. I don’t remember everything, but I remember some. Token reminded me accidentally, when we were talking about taking a trip after we graduate. Turns out Kyle and I were planning a similar trip, or something of the sort. We wanted you and Kenny to come too,” Stan added with an almost hysterical chuckle, “and Ike and Karen, and… And I remembered too late.”

“Oh Stan… I’m not surprised at all that you knew, honestly. Nor that you kept it a secret. The two of you… If there’s anyone that he would trust to support him through something that would hurt this bad, it’s you.” Butters leaned down, putting his face in his hands. “I just… I wish he would have trusted us too.”

“Yea.” Stan could feel the tears burning tracks down his cheeks. “But I think I know why he didn’t. I… I’m sorry.”

Butters slowly shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It doesn’t do any good.”

“I know.” Stan leaned back in the chair, pressing his palms over his eyes. His head hurt. “Token’s gonna round up the others. I should probably let him know about you and Kenny, since he was planning on grabbing you guys too.”

“Yea. We should… We should go,” Butters agreed. “We’re not gonna do any good here. I already gave my statement to the cops. All we can do is wait.”

“All we can do is wait,” Stan echoed. Something about the statement broke Stan, and he bent forward, curling up tightly as the tears came faster, breaths in gasping sobs, and he could barely register a hand settling on his back, slowly rubbing up and down.

The floodgates had opened, in his eyes and in his mind, and all he could do was drown in a sea of misery and memory.

\--------------

Kyle kept walking, and walking, and walking. The tall grass parted easily around him, and seemed to leave no sign of his passing in its wake.

Just like life, then. Too insignificant to make an impact. Too meaningless to leave a mark.

Pathetic.

Maybe this was all there was for Kyle. An endless, meaningless existence, alone. Not even worth the effort it would take to punish. Why bother when it would be just as effective to leave him be? After all, his own mind would make him suffer enough, so there was no need for anything else.

Kyle sniffed, reaching up to rub at the corner of his eye. He deserved this, he was worthless, meaningless, why would anyone ever bother with him, he deserved this, he deserved this pointless, empty place.

At least he wouldn’t bother anyone else anymore.

No more sucking up Kenny and Butters’ time, no more taking attention away from Ike, no more pointlessly raising his parents’ hopes, no more…

No more Stan. No more stars and dark bedrooms and movie nights and commiserating over the battle against their own minds. No more hope that maybe one day, things might be better, that Kyle might make Stan’s life better instead of worse, that one day they might even… 

Kyle fell to his knees, clamping his hands over his mouth to muffle his broken sobs. Even as he did so, he felt stupid, ridiculous for crying. This was what he’d chosen, throwing himself off that bridge, he’d wanted to die more than anything, he’d wanted it all to end. This was the consequence, this was his own fault.

This was his own fault.

“Kyle?”

Kyle’s head snapped up at the sound of a voice. It was distant, but familiar. He slowly pulled himself to his feet and tried to choke back his tears, wondering if he was just hearing things.

“Kyyyyyyyyyyleeeeeeeeee?” the voice called again.

“Kenny..?” Kyle murmured under his breath, barely able to believe his ears.

In the distance, there was something, a brighter yellow in the sea of grey sky and greyish green grass. Kyle started walking again, toward it, slow at first, but faster as Kenny continued to call his name, until he finally seemed to spot Kyle as well.

“Kyle!” Kenny shouted, running forward to meet him.

Eventually, Kyle stumbled to a stop in front of him, panting softly. Kenny did much the same, bending over to put his hands on his knees.

“Ugh… Wow, who knew you could exert yourself this hard in here?” Kenny groaned, then stood up straight again. He smiled weakly at Kyle. “Glad I found you though, dude.”

“Wh… What are you doing here?” Kyle asked. He quickly rubbed at his eyes, even though he knew it was useless to hide the tears.

Kenny snorted softly. “I came looking for you. Do you know where you are right now?”

“Some sort of afterlife, I thought. But if you’re here…” Kyle really hoped Kenny wasn’t dead too. That would be awful for everyone.

“Well, sort of. You’re in Limbo. You know what that means, right?”

Kyle slumped. “... I’m not even dead, am I?”

“Not yet,” Kenny confirmed.

God. He couldn’t even kill himself right. Kyle sighed. “That doesn’t really explain what you’re doing here.”

“Well, Damien’s in Hell searching for you, but I can get to places he can’t. So I came looking for you,” Kenny explained.

Kyle slowly shook his head. “Why’d you even bother?” he asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “You know what I did, don’t you? Unless they didn’t even tell you that. Just let me fucking die, Kenny. This is what I want.”

“Is it?” Kenny asked. His voice was surprisingly even, despite the pain Kyle could recognize on his face. “Butters and Damien spotted you letting go. They weren’t in time to stop you, but Damien was able to do enough so your body wouldn’t die. It wouldn’t mean shit, though, if some part of you didn't want to stay alive, dude. That’s why you’re here, in Limbo. Because some piece of you is still holding on. I’ve got nothing to do with that, Kyle.”

Kyle didn’t really know what to say to that. He wanted to die, he wanted to, he did. Why would he be holding on? “So… What now, then?”

“Well… You have a choice to make, dude. And I’m gonna stay with you until you do.”

With that, Kenny sat down, and he motioned for Kyle to do the same. Carefully, Kyle sat as well. He watched Kenny for a few moments, unsure of what to say.

“... If I decided to pass on, to die, would you accept that?” Kyle finally asked.

Kenny sighed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t be happy about it, but… It’s not like I can stop you, man. All I can do is try my best to help you through this.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Kyle murmured.

Kenny gazed at him. “... No, it wasn’t. You weren’t supposed to fucking try to kill yourself. But here we are.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. Don’t you have better things to worry about?” That was part of the point, after all.

Kenny sighed. “I know just saying it isn’t going to do much, but Kyle… You’re worth my fucking time, okay? I’m staying here whether you like it or not, however long it takes. Because that’s what friends do. Butters, Damien, Pip, they've got my back. Butters is gonna stick with Stan for now, and Pip’s gonna watch after Karen. Damien will probably make sure nothing happens to her while I’m gone once he fails to find you in Hell. And Karen understands that this is important to me.”

Kyle was slightly taken aback. “You… Trust them? With Karen?” he asked softly.

“... Butters is my friend, Kyle. And I can trust him, if nothing else. Because I can rely on them. Just like you were relying on Stan. But you wouldn’t rely on us.” Kenny teared up for the first time since he’d joined Kyle. “We tried to get through to you, but you wouldn't let us in.”

Kyle looked away, unable to bear the sight. “I… You couldn’t understand,” he said weakly. It was a feeble excuse, even to his own ears. “And besides, you had so much going on with your own shit, man.”

“Friends are there for each other. You’ve always looked out for me, man. Same with Butters. We want to do the same for you. I’m  _ going _ to do the same for you, whether you like it or not.” Kenny’s voice wobbled from the tears, but it did nothing to temper his conviction.

Kyle shifted, glancing up at him. “... So what now?”

“Well, I’d say the best thing would be to talk about it. But we can just chill for a bit, if that’s what you’d prefer. Could take a walk, or even lay back and stare at the grey sky. Not a ton to do around here, though, huh?” Kenny said with a soft chuckle.

Kyle fidgeted. “Would you… mind if I told you about all the stuff between me and Stan?”

Eyes widening a bit, Kenny tilted his head. “Are you sure you wanna do that? I’m fine with it, but that’s probably pretty personal, right?”

“I think all of it is too tied up with him to separate, really. At least, this far in my life.”

“Go for it, then. I’m all ears.” Kenny smiled warmly at him. “Hopefully moving forward, you can lean on all of us, not just him. Not alone.”

“... Maybe. Maybe.”


End file.
